


Heart Tangled

by Grizmelder



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Epistolary, Eventual Smut, Historical Accuracy, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Just that one chapter of letter writing that I couldn't resist, M/M, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), Period-Typical Homophobia, Power Imbalance, Samurai do samurai things, Slow Burn, The angst is mostly internalised, Way too much scenery porn, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:35:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 43,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24559264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grizmelder/pseuds/Grizmelder
Summary: Watching Renji retreat, Byakuya saw an eagerness in his step, an eagerness to be out of the stuffy, formal hall. Or out of his lord's company, perhaps? The man was so obviously uneasy in his presence, but perhaps there was something more there too, underneath.He sensed that there was a core of iron hidden in the young man.  Even though Renji had been on the battlefield the day before, somewhere, he had not let down his guard when the group of shogunate supporters had crested the hill, phasing out of the early morning mist to encircle them. It had been a narrow escape, thanks to Abarai Renji - a man he would be most interested to observe.Renji catches the eye of formidable feudal lord Kuchiki Byakuya. But saving his lord's life sets him on an unexpected path.In the era of the samurai, Byakuya and Renji fight for their traditions, their emperor, and eventually for each other.
Relationships: Abarai Renji/Kuchiki Byakuya
Comments: 62
Kudos: 79





	1. Swift Revenge

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I've been wanting to write from a history geek perspective for a while - what would it be like if our two favourite gents were actual samurai in the mortal world. Perhaps in a past life? I have ignored some of the real history facts of the Boshin war, but this loosely based around that famous and much-studied time in Japanese history when the Shogun abdicated his power and the Emperor returned, only for civil war to break out and change Japan beyond recognition in the space of just a few short decades. *cough* History geekery *cough*
> 
> Usual rank disparity applies, slower burn and a fair amount of scenery. E for later chapters. There are no zanpakuto, but their swords feel familiar. Other characters will make cameos, but this is mostly my excuse to have them be in the Meiji era!

### April, 1868

The inner sanctum of the Kuchiki estate was encircled by stone walls, much like their leader's heart. Inside the walls, a sprawling series of sombre wooden buildings were connected by long silent corridors and interspersed with vibrant green gardens. Tall bamboo shrouded the side entrance where Renji stood, slipping off his shoes as he stepped onto the veranda. He was on his way to meet Kuchiki Byakuya.

He was greeted by a samurai that he did not recognise. But the five Kuchiki crests on his deep navy uniform identified him as a member of the lord's personal staff. The bow Renji received was deeper and more sincere that he had anticipated. Part of Renji suddenly suspected that he was not in fact being summoned for an audience with his lord but instead being sized up for ritual sacrifice. Kuchiki Byakuya was not the sort of feudal lord to thank brash young idiots when they stupidly get themselves injured in the line of duty.

Admittedly this particular line of duty had been saving the lord's life.

Renji's mysterious guide stood aside to allow him in. Through the dark doorway the distinct earthy smell of tatami matting filled his nostrils, and he felt the rough texture under his feet. The room was softly lit, the autumn sun was fading in the sky and lanterns had been lit. Renji waited to be led, resting one hand absent-mindedly over the hilt of his sword. A disapproving look from his guide made him drop it to his side again in a hurry.

"I won't take your sword from you, Abarai Renji, but do not touch it in our lord's presence. At all. Now follow me please," the man said, moving past him to slide open the door across the room. Renji was beckoned through into a corridor with dark wooden floorboards and creamy walls. But he wasn't taking in the scenery, more admonishing himself for touching his sword inside the house - a matter that could have earnt him severe corporal punishment. He must be more nervous than he had realised. Nervous about how he might react meeting a man who had caused him so much personal anguish, yet was blissfully unaware of the fact.

From the outside, the estate looked deadly quiet, but once you were inside, there were so many servants, shuffling up and down the corridors, carrying trays and wrapped bundles. Renji suddenly noticed that his guide was talking and tried to zone back in on the conversation, dodging a girl balancing a tray of teacups. "Kuchiki-sama's guests will be leaving soon. Do not keep him waiting if he asks you questions. He will ask for me when you are dismissed so if you hear the door behind you open, take your leave," the guide said. Renji walked faster, keeping his eyes down so as not to get distracted by the lamplight glancing off intricate carvings running along the ceilings, and a glimpse of a painted room off to one side.

"It's not just me on my own in there is it?" Renji asked, mouth going dry. He had counted on other people being there as a buffer. His guide changed direction but took time to throw him another disdainful glance as they walked. "His lordship requested to speak to you privately."

Gulp. Renji nervously pulled up his hakama at the front where the weight of his sword dragged them down, and checked the drape of his haori, twitching it closer to his body, as if to hide the sword and lessen his temptation to touch it.

They turned onto a long corridor, absent of people. At the end there was a single step up to a pair of pure white doors painted with clouds. Renji's guide bustled ahead, kneeling at the door and turning his head to listen closely. Evidently satisfied with what he heard, he motioned Renji up and slid the door open, calling _"Shitsurei itashimasu"_ as he did so.

Renji kept his eyes downcast as he stepped into the room, quickly kneeling and pressing his forehead to the tatami. The door hissed shut behind him and he held his breath, listening for any noise over the sound of his heart hammering in his chest.

"Abarai Renji," came a deep, silky voice. It was, and wasn't, an invitation.

"Kuchiki-sama," Renji responded, not raising his head. There was the minutest sound of silk rustling as the voice came again. "You may rise." It almost sounded irritated. Renji rose slowly into seiza, almost gasping as he did at the scene in front of him.

Painted dragons and cherry trees adorned the paper walls, almost alive in the flickering lantern light. The friezes around the top of the room were carved in rich dark wood. Kuchiki Byakuya sat on a dais in front of him, wearing robes so deep in colour that they looked like the night sky, a darker black than his inky hair, which was tied back in a knot. A delicate tea set was arranged at his right elbow, and the cold gleam of his katana sparkled on his left. Even sheathed it looked deathly sharp.

Lord Kuchiki raised an eyebrow. Renji hastily rearranged his features and moved up, noticing a steaming cup of tea set in front of a cushion directly before the dais where his daimyo sat. He bowed again as he lowered himself onto it.

"Drink," the older man ordered. Renji obeyed, but kept his eyes averted. It was glorious tea, refreshing and smokey. Piping hot. "You are healed," came a question disguised as a flat statement. Renji considered the ache in his ribs and stinging cut on his thigh, which was stretched a little as he knelt. It was wrapped but still healing. "The worst is healed, and I don't mind the inconvenience. It's my duty," he spoke, honestly. Even if he didn't particularly _like_ his lord, he was still honour-bound to protect him.

"You acted more swiftly than my personal bodyguards." Another request for information hidden in a statement, Renji thought, bristling slightly. He wasn't good at subtlety, and he much preferred people that spoke their mind. "I've seen a similar attack before, Daimyo," he responded. The attacker had worked his way in very close behind them, slipping through the bodyguards whilst they were distracted. He had aimed up under Kuchiki-sama's ribs - it would have been quite fatal. In deflecting it, Renji had taken the weight behind the thrust: with the hilt of the sword against his rib and the blade pressing down into the top of his left thigh. Not too deeply, fortunately.

The tip of the assassin's sword had been left hanging, menacingly caught in the loose fabric of his lord's sleeve. Kuchiki-sama had turned a fraction too late, catching the action in his peripheral vision as it ended. Renji remembered a flash of grey eyes suddenly registering the blade, and the flash of a sword following, beheading the assassin even as he was pinioned to Renji's side. Cruel, efficient, cold - and not surprising to Renji.

Noticing the silence, Renji continued "..next time, the blade won't even touch you." Glancing up he saw faint surprise in his lord's eyes.  
"No, it will not. Neither will it touch you, I think," came the reply. So sure of Renji's skills? Renji perhaps should have felt guilty for assuming he would even stand so close to his lord in battle again.

"You will report to my personal guard tomorrow," Kuchiki Byakuya said. Renji immediately dropped into another low obligatory bow of gratitude. Outward gratitude, whilst his insides squirmed between nervousness, hate and pride.

Then he heard the door behind him swish open. It was time to take his leave.

*

Watching Renji retreat, Byakuya saw an eagerness in his step, an eagerness to be out of the stuffy, formal hall. Or out of his lord's company, perhaps? The man was so obviously uneasy in his presence, but perhaps there was something more there too, underneath.

He sensed that there was a core of iron hidden in the young man. The attack had come on the road home, and most of the contingent of samurai in his charge were comfortably flushed with victory, spent from the fighting. Even though Renji had been on the battlefield the day before, somewhere, he had not let down his guard. A group of shogunate supporters had crested the hill, phasing out of the early morning mist to encircle them. It had been a vicious slaughter for their attackers, who were easily outnumbered and reliant on surprise. Yet a narrow escape for Byakuya.

He had survived. Thanks to Abarai Renji - a man he would be most interested to observe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter as an introduction. More to come.


	2. Sudden Reward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Renji gets more than he bargained for.

###  May, 1868

When Renji presented himself at the guardhouse the next day, he made sure to bow lower than his instincts told him to. When he rose, the two men on the door looked positively alarmed. Renji's instincts must be even worse than he thought. They were sweating and averting their eyes as he passed in, as if they were terrified of him. He knew his bloodline was widely considered rebellious, traitorous and blood thirsty, even. Some of that bloodlust rose up in him, irritated that the soldiers were judging him before even getting to know him. Nothing new there. Returning to his rooms the previous night he had laid awake wondering whether he would even be let in when he presented himself for duty the next morning. The bodyguards were more visible than soldiers, honoured members of the household rather than just part of the standing army that every lord commanded. Renji's rogue-ish accent and wild hair that never stayed in his topknot hardly inspired confidence, even if he did inspire fear.

The same solemn looking servant from yesterday welcomed him into the room, and presented him with a badge and a crested kimono. The room quickly emptied of several other soldiers. "I am Makoto, it is nice to see you again, Abarai-san. One of my duties is coordinating between the bodyguards and the main house. We'll start with a tour of the manor, if that's agreeable?" he said. Renji tied the badge clumsily and tucked the kimono under his arm for later. "The kimono is for formal wear, Abarai-san, treat it with care," Makoto smiled. "This way."

They went back across the courtyard and through a side door, but Renji got lost somewhere between where he entered and the kitchen. It turned out that Makoto had understated his own duties. He was actually in charge of managing the entire household and was practically the Lord's right hand. He knew literally everybody and everything. Unfortunately for Renji it seemed Makoto was intent on cramming all of this knowledge into his head in 30 minutes flat. Did every bodyguard go through such a thorough induction?

"Makoto, who do I report to?" Renji asked, as they came to a stop at the back gate of the house, guarded by two men holding long spears. "To Kuchiki-sama of course," Makoto frowned.

"But....there are other bodyguards, right? Someone senior to me that I should report to before that...?"

"You are the most senior member of Kuchuki-sama's personal bodyguard," Makoto said firmly.

Renji froze, chilled in a way that wasn't caused by the autumn air. "Each of Kuchiki-sama's residences has a different team with a different leader, but you are the most senior as this is the main residence. His home," Makoto explained. Cold dread fully washed over him now. _Why me?_ Renji admonished himself. _I was too competent, that always lands you in trouble._

"Well in that case, I hope I get new living quarters," he sighed. Makoto smiled knowingly, and Renji had the feeling that the man knew this whole thing was a surprise, or maybe he just thought Renji was an oblivious fool. "Of course, right this way," he said. Makoto led him through the servant's corridors to the heart of the house, then slipped down an almost invisible corridor that Renji would have missed. His heart was pounding. They were in the family quarters, this was where the lord's suite was. Makoto hadn't mentioned which exactly it was on the tour. It was probably the one with the really fancy carvings they had passed, he mused, glancing back over his shoulder. As he turned he softly bumped into Makoto in front of him. They'd come to a stop outside a neat door lit by the sun in the room beyond.

Renji's new quarters consisted of three rooms: a wide reception room that backed onto one of the plainer enclosed gardens, a small bedroom, just big enough for a futon and some storage, and a stone-floored washroom with a wooden bathtub and water spigot. It was nothing like the luxurious apartments surrounding him on all sides, but a massive jump up from a shared bathroom and bunk in a dorm room of 10 men swearing, stinking and shouting all day. Maybe he should go around saving the lives of rich people more often, he thought, rubbing the back of his neck. "This is....I'm honoured," he muttered. Makoto had stayed by the door as Renji explored the space. "You are twenty feet from the entrance to his lord's quarters if you go via the corridor. It's the one directly on your left. However, there is also a door from the back of your bedroom closet, along and into Kuchiki-sama's library, in case of an emergency. You will also note that there is an outside door from this living space to the courtyard, where a tunnel has been built under the next complex to the outside wall, near the eastern gate," he opened the door and indicated with his hand. Renji nodded, brain whirring with escape protocols.

Makoto shut the door and continued "These are never to be used except in dire need, you'll understand." Renji nodded again, trying to look alert. "At all times there are three personal bodyguards assigned to his lordship out of the household guards. The day starts at 6am, when the lord takes his breakfast, then he receives visitors and attends to any pressing matters for the rest of the morning. You aren't likely to be needed then. He often goes riding or practices his archery and swordplay in the afternoon, and you are expected to accompany him if he leaves his rooms. Dinner is at 6pm, you can eat after Kuchiki-sama. You are likely to be the only bodyguard personally in the room with him when he has guests. Your three retainers should take turns to watch the key entrances and exits from wherever his lordship may be, or take care of honoured guests. All clear?"

"Crystal," Renji said with a grin. Suddenly he relaxed. He had been doing this job for years; fighting, predicting the next move and working with men as a team in battle. He could do this, as long as he didn't get bored, or start a fight with his lord. It sounded like they'd be spending an awful lot of time in each other's company. "Any guests or anything I need to know about today?" he asked. Makoto seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at Renji's sudden change of attitude. _Relieved that I'm actually competent, maybe._ "Not today....but at the end of the summer you will remember we are hosting the Ukitake clan here. You best get your house in order by then. There will be extra people to look after and to protect his lordship from. Your team will be waiting for you at the guardhouse, I'm sure. Kuchiki-sama has invited you to join him for tea after his training this afternoon. Escort him at 2pm."

Makoto left. Renji only thought afterwards that he didn't know how to get back to the guardhouse.

*

Today's team of three consisted of an old, grouchy sort of man called Hiroyuki, a terrified young lad called Rikichi and an overly-zealous woman called Naomi. If the idea was to pick the most incongruous people possible, people that were easy to underestimate or disregard, then they had definitely succeeded. But Renji felt at ease with them, as they didn't seem to judge or look down on him.

The only worry now was what happened when 2pm rolled around.

Renji managed to navigate back to where his rooms were, and from there find the lord's suite. As expected, there were heavily carved ceilings with dragons and phoenixes, but that was the only giveaway that the rooms were special compared to the others around the courtyard. He leant against a pillar just in the shadows around the corner, waiting with a sick, wobbly feeling in his belly. Long ago, when he had first met Kuchiki-sama, his best friend had been taken away from him. He had felt sick then too. Renji was sure that Kuchiki Byakuya wouldn't remember him from that brief meeting. It was the source of a lot of regret and anger, and Renji didn't want to be remembered as the angry, low-born samurai he was then.

Soft footsteps and the scrape of a sliding door drew his attention. He looked up to see Kuchiki-sama stepping out into the corridor, sword at his hip, looking expectedly in the other direction. Was that where Renji's predecessor had always waited? Who was his predecessor? Renji moved out of the shadows and approached, not wanting to look late. "Kuchiki-sama," he said, bowing and not raising his head until he felt those eyes boring into him. "We'll go to the west fields. Come," the lord said, walking off without waiting for Renji to straighten up or follow.

If he had been expecting conversation, he would have been severely disappointed. But he hadn't been. He knew full well that Kuchiki Byakuya spoke as little as possible. There was some crisp sunshine filtering through heavy rain clouds, so Renji simply enjoyed the scenery once they had passed out of the gates - rice fields in the distance past the edge of the woods, which came right up close to the surrounding wall of the mansion. A village just in the dell past the rice fields looked cosy and quaint in a patch of sunshine. The wind was cool but the temperature was still quite warm. They were far away from any danger, so Renji felt relaxed, apart from when his eyes flicked to the crests on the back of his lord's haori, rippling in the breeze ahead of him.

They stopped when they were far enough down the hill that the walls of the mansion obscured all the buildings inside, and a patch of trees hid them from view of the road. A set of three wrapped bamboo poles were set up at the edge of the field, evidently for regular use. It was deadly silent and empty, Renji thought. The lord must not like having his practice watched. He absently scanned the line of trees beyond.

Renji realised suddenly that he was being watched, glancing back and finding himself directly in the line of those sharp, grey eyes. He twitched his gaze downwards out of habit. "Are you not ready to spar?" Kuchiki-sama asked. Renji tried to keep his face calm. _Oh. When they said sword training, they didn't mean just watch as he trained._ The sick feeling was back. Kuchiki Byakuya was known as an exemplary swordsman. Renji would not stand a chance. "I'm ready," Renji said, employing a bit of bravado. He had totally intended to stand there with his sword still sheathed, waiting for the wind to signal the start of the fight. There was a slight smirk in response, just a glimpse of one.

It was a few heartbeats before Renji couldn't stand the tension and finally drew, cutting upwards towards his lord, feinting and following as he dodged backwards. Kuchiki-sama hadn't even drawn his sword. Renji held back, guarding. "Very well," Kuchiki-sama said, finally drawing, the cutting edge patterned like cherry blossoms flying in a storm. He did it slowly, threateningly, then waited for Renji to attack again. The hiss of metal hitting metal was unlike anything else, in Renji's mind. As they duelled, he quickly came to terms with the fact that he was outclassed in both speed and experience. He had strength on his side, but Kuchiki Byakuya was bloody stylish - the way he moved, reacted, the completely serene expression on his face. There was a stray hair at the nape of his neck that made Renji wonder what he would look like, battling with his hair down, ferocious and crazed like the character in a kabuki play.

Of course, ogling your lord whilst trying to duel him was bound to end in failure. Renji wound up with the sharp cherry blossom blade snicking against the whiskers on his neck. He froze and raised his arms in surrender. "You were distracted," Kuchiki-sama said. Renji swallowed, and the blade pressed a bit harder. "Next time, bring the wooden swords and we won't have to risk your neck," his lord said quietly. He thought at first it was a threat, but Renji accidentally caught Kuchiki-sama's eye and found a sparkle of humour. Renji backed off and laughed. "I'll do that," he said "I'm going to have to get up a lot earlier in the morning to beat Kuchiki-sama, I reckon."

For a moment he thought his lord was going to verbally spar with him too, but the lord seemed to think better of it and sheathed his sword. "Bring me the poles, I wish to practice my form," he ordered.  
“I'll join you, if there's room," Renji said, bowing and rushing off to drag the bamboo poles into the open space in the field. They took one pole each, circling, moving through and past in different variations, slicing high then low through the bamboo. It wasn't long before they were left with stumps near the ground. Renji wondered again who his predecessor as primary bodyguard was, whether this was normal. He dragged the last pole over for Kuchiki-sama and stood back, watching again. There was no way to describe his lord but beautiful, he was lean and sure-footed, elegant in everything he did. And slightly vicious.

The rain clouds finally broke and Renji jumped when a cold raindrop hit his arm. Instinctively, he tugged his kimono from his hakama and shrugged out of it. As he strode over, he saw Kuchiki-sama double-take and falter slightly in his movement before stopping. "There is no need," he said simply. Renji shrugged and tucked his sword back in his belt before draping the kimono over his arm and shoulder to protect Kuchiki-sama from the rain. "Your clothes are worth more than mine," he responded, then asked "We going back?"  
"We can shelter in the trees, it will pass,"came the response.

They shuffled under the canopy of the woods and, looking up, Renji saw that the rain cloud was just a wisp that would indeed pass quickly. He shrugged back into his kimono, feeling cold water trickling down his chest and suppressing a shiver. When he'd finished wrapping himself back up, he found his lord was staring at him again. "I'm sorry for not being prepared, Kuchiki-sama. I'm imagining the last guy made sure to bring the bokken and an umbrella..." Renji couldn't help himself from saying.   
"There was no 'last guy', Abarai," the tone was a little peeved. Renji frowned.   
"Please don't tell me you've been relying on Richiki all this time?"  
"No."  
"Hiroyuki?"  
"No.”  
"Naomi?"  
"Will you name everyone in my household, Abarai or have you finished questioning me incessantly?" Kuchiki-sama snapped. Renji felt an odd sort of glee in goading emotions out of the man, but bowed his head slightly in apology.

"Hiroyuki is the most senior member of staff, however I have never had a team as big as this before. So there was no need for a leader," Kuchiki-sama quietly explained.  
"What changed?" Renji asked.  
"Did you forget that the injuries you gained protecting me were ultimately in a fight for the emperor's freedom? The shogun has given up his position, the world is changing and we will have to fight to protect ourselves," came the response. It was the most words he'd heard his lord say in one go. Renji paused and considered the information, which was apparently not humble enough. "You are an impertinent lout," Kuchiki-sama sighed. "Follow."

Even though it was still raining, they marched across the field and back towards the house. By the time they reached the shelter of the walls they were both a bit bedraggled, but the rain had stopped. Kuchiki-sama swept back inside, Renji following meekly. As they reached the familiar family gardens, Renji gave in and blurted out "I know I'm impertinent, Kuchiki-sama. I'm sorry." The haori came to a stop in front of him. "Am I still invited for tea?" Renji ventured. The haori started moving again and he took it as an invitation.

*

Byakuya accepted his bodyguard dogging his footsteps and allowed him to follow into his rooms. He was relieved to see the hot, fresh tea waiting for him. He had originally invited Abarai to tea because, practically speaking, they needed to establish a rapport if they were to spend a lot of time in each other's company. He needed Abarai to read him in difficult situations and work with him. The pert remarks and slight attitude made him regret his decision a little at first. However, perhaps it was good for him. It had been a long time since anyone spoke straight with him, and he conceded that this quality could be appropriate in a bodyguard.

The man's expressions were completely unguarded however, just as his actions were. The clear appreciation in Abarai's face watching him train had slightly disarmed Byakuya, not to mention the way he so casually undressed to protect his lord from a light shower of rain. That had been quite a spectacle. And a generous, selfless gesture at odds with his appearance of brutishness.

Byakuya drifted towards his rooms to change, and found his footpad following. He turned and put out a hand to halt him. Renji was too busy gawping around the room, it seemed, and walked straight into it, pressing Byakuya's hand inadvertently into the warm muscles of his chest. "Abarai, I do not need help to get changed," he sighed. Those warm brown eyes looked vaguely surprised, glancing down to the palm pressing him back. Byakuya resisted gripping Abarai's robes and _pushing_ him. The man's complete and utter informality was infuriating! He turned away, rifling through his wardrobe and throwing a dry set of robes into Renji's arms. "Put these on," he said, sliding the door closed, hard, in Renji's face.

As he changed, he could hear his bodyguard doing the same, hurried scufflings from the other side of his door. There was a crack between the doors where he'd slammed them closed, and through it Byakuya caught a flash of strong back muscles and a neat cut, healing but still red, across the young man's thigh. That gave him a moment's pause and he decided to be a little more patient. He had promoted Abarai because of his skill, knowing that he was likely to need a fair amount of training to fit in with the structure and rules. He couldn't expect people to just innately know how to act, he grudgingly admitted. Especially men like Renji from an obscure province at the edge of Byakuya's feudal dominion. From what he could tell, Renji's forefathers had included a good deal of ronin, wandering masterless through Japan, until they settled here under the rule of Ginrei, his grandfather.

Still, Byakuya took a certain amount of pleasure in flinging open the door again and wandering out, unconcerned by Abarai still frantically tying the front knots on his hakama. Byakuya sat down at the table and inhaled the steam curling up from his tea to calm himself. The bodyguard took a few moments, standing there in his bare feet, to adjust the kimono and smooth a few creases before padding over to join him, leaning over to reach for the second cup. It was then that Byakuya realised his hair was down. It slid forward over Abarai's shoulder in a thick, red sheet, falling almost to his elbows. The front sections were slightly damp, curling a bit. What an impossible colour, he thought.

"So," Abarai began, blowing on his tea "What do we know about Ukitake-sama's retinue?". Byakuya was pleased with the topic of conversation. "He is a gentle old man these days, a chief advisor to the emperor. He is travelling from the newly recaptured Edo to see us and to bring me news." He paused, turning the cup on the table, then decided to continue. It was important that Abarai understood all the key players. "He is bringing my sister with him, she visits a few times of year, but she has lived with the Ukitake clan since she was a girl." Renji squirmed and looked down at his tea uncomfortably. "You know the Ukitake clan," Byakuya said, seeing this odd reaction. His drinking partner seemed to snap out of it and shake his head. "Nah. Heard the name, but never come across them before."

Byakuya let it go. Whatever was bothering the man wasn't his business. "There is one other person in the party. Ukitake-sama never goes anywhere without his lover, Shunsui. He's a playwright. The affair was somewhat of a scandal as Shunsui basically spends all of his time draped in rich clothes drinking and writing lewd kabuki plays. However they have been a committed pair for upwards of 20 years," Byakuya sighed. He could barely tolerate Kyouraku at the best of times. "You must show Ukitake, Shunsui and Rukia, my sister, equal honour."

The difficulty was showing them equal honour without offending the others. Rukia was returning to her family home - a reason for joy, even if it was only a visit. Ukitake-sama was terrifically important in the government, the most important visitor they were likely to host that year. Shunsui enjoyed teasing and plenty of good sake, so required particularly hardy servants. Thankfully both Ukitake and Shunsui were goodnatured, and hard to genuinely offend. "To all outside eyes, we must treat this as if the emperor were sending Ukitake to visit us," Byakuya said. Renji nodded and then frowned, asking "Why does your sister stay with them?". Byakuya was slightly taken aback with the question and raised an eyebrow. "This place has no ladies or society, only soldiers. Rukia is best off in a lively household," he explained. Originally her resemblance to his wife had unsettled him so he had sent her away for selfish reasons, but it had worked out for the best. Rukia flourished under Ukitake's care.

"Will they be bringing their own bodyguards?" Renji continued, obviously trying to change the topic of conversation back to something more professional rather than be accused of impertinence again. He was learning. "A few - they have a fierce, all female squad. They inspired me to find our own Naomi. Women can be hidden within the serving staff or dressed up as court ladies. They are generally ignored, and are just as deadly with training. Rukia herself would give any assassin pause," he said, feeling pride even if he didn't let it warm the expression on his face.

There was a grin spreading on Renji's face. "I'll never trust one of those maids scurrying around ever again." Byakuya felt a hint of camaraderie, unlooked for. It appeared they would get on quite well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> History and Language Notes 
> 
> Renji refers to Byakuya as -sama or -dono as a mark of respect, but Byakuya is a Daimyo (feudal lord) and it is entirely possible that another suffix was more appropriate. 
> 
> The setting is Kanazawa, on the northern cost of Japan, which had a stronger affiliation with the shogun than with the emperor as far as I'm aware. I have specifically avoided putting Byakuya emphatically one side or another in the Boshin war setting, because neither side was really good or bad, and had some very complicated politics and disagreements with each other.
> 
> I've tried to stay true to the reality that Samurai were a class of people, but being a Samurai was also a job that you were paid a stipend to do.


	3. Sharp Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byakuya gets a surprise.

### August, 1868

The parade of banners and neat ranks of men could be seen winding its way through the rice fields far away, filtering through the town where everyone lined the streets to watch, and meandering up the hill towards the tall, graceful gates of the Kuchiki manor. Two men and a lady led the column on horseback, with more following in the long shadows left behind them by the afternoon sun. Renji was watching from the gateway, but as Rukia got close enough to make out her features he pulled back and let Naomi and Hiroyuki do their jobs. He suddenly couldn't bear to see her happy face, the practical and dust covered clothes she wore were still a far cry from the rags they had dressed in growing up.

Rukia slipped from her horse and waited for her lord to lead the way, wearing a smile that lit her violet eyes. Renji moved towards the eastern gate to watch the retinue of Ukitake's soldiers from a distance, listening to the words of welcome echoing around the trees. The older lord's voice was rich and warm, his companion Shunsui lilting and gravelly. Renji waited until the voices died away, signifying that the party had gone into the house, and then wandered back towards the main gate.

He spied two young ladies bickering in front of the house and approached to see what was going on. It appeared these were two of the famous female bodyguards, and they were fighting over who would get to go in with their masters. Before he had the chance to break up the discussion, one of Makoto's underlings rushed out of the house beckoning at him. "Kuchiki-sama is looking for you. His guests are due to take tea ceremony with him and he needs you there," the boy whispered and Renji strode back into the house, held up by the servants scurrying in the wake of new guests.

Kneeling at the door to the lord's suite, he bowed and called _"Shitsurei itashimasu."_ He heard a muffled response through the paper doors and entered. The atmosphere in the room was icy, Kuchiki-sama was standing with his back to Renji whilst attendants removed the wide-sleeved formal haori from his shoulders. "Where were you," was the only greeting. "I was watching from the eastern gate. Just checking out the soldiers and the size of the group," Renji explained. "You are required to be at my side, not skulking at a distance. Put on the formal clothes left in your room and come to the tea house in the south garden," the lord ordered, not even turning his head to address Renji directly. A trickle of guilt and shame snuck in, but he held himself proud as he left, smartly sliding the door closed.

The formal clothes consisted of the black crested kimono he'd been given when he arrived, and a pair of faintly patterned blue hakama. They were stiffer that he generally wore, and he felt a little out of step with himself as he approached the teahouse. Surrounded on three sides by a pond and reached by a narrow strip of land, the wooden tea house looked out over the reds and oranges of the autumnal trees. He could hear voices and laughter inside, and was relieved to see Rukia's back to him as he walked up to the structure. He tucked himself in the corner away from her, hidden even from her peripheral vision.

"Nii-sama looks more relaxed than last time, did you get a new cook?" she teased. Ukitake-sama laughed "Is the way to Kuchiki-sama's heart through his stomach, then?" More laughter. Renji snuck a glance at his lord under his eyelashes and saw a much more open and engaged expression there than he had seen in the whole time he had known his lord. It was a privilege to see a vague smile playing there across his lips.

"No, a new bodyguard," Kuchiki-sama quipped and Renji felt his neck flush. He averted his eyes again. "Ho ho. Being able to sleep soundly at night surely makes for a good mood," came Shunsui's accented grumble. Ukitake leaned towards him and placed a hand on the bigger man's thigh "You are biased on the topic of sleep, you lazy oaf." Renji's eyebrows twitched up at the flirtatious behaviour but Kuchiki-sama didn't appear to mind. Renji had overheard several servants saying that Ukitake-sama had been Kuchiki-sama's mentor as a teenager, so really Renji was sat in amongst a family gathering as the only stranger.

"Who is this mysterious new muscle man that has you feeling so contented, Byakuya-sama?" Shunsui asked. Ukitake slapped him lightheartedly for the impertinence of his question. "A solider. One that saved my life," Kuchiki-sama stated simply. Rukia and Ukitake-sama made noises of surprise, whilst Kyouraku laughed "How romantic." Rukia shifted herself to place a caring hand on her brother's arm. "When did this happen?" she asked. Kuchiki-sama didn't look directly into her face as he replied "A few weeks ago, a skirmish travelling back home after Nagaoka castle was burned."  
"We shall have to thank this gentleman, call him to us and we will share this fine tea ceremony with him to show our gratitude."  
"I needn't call him, he's right here," Kuchiki-sama responded. Renji stiffened and raised himself up as tall as possible in his seiza kneel.

He felt all four sets of eyes on him but did not meet them. "I approve of your choice, Byakuya. He's a fine specimen," Shunsui teased again. But it was Rukia that spoke next. "Renji...?" she said incredulously. Renji instinctively turned towards her and pressed his forehead to the floor. "Kuchiki-gozen," he said, gritting his teeth at the feel of addressing her this way.

"Oh ho!" Kyouraku crowed. "A love triangle!"

*

Byakuya glanced back and forth between Rukia's shocked expression and Renji's embarrassed face. The guests had insisted that Renji join them at the table, supplying him with a cup of tea and a plate of sweets, but he picked at his plate and sipped at his tea in silence. It was most unlike his brash bodyguard, Byakuya knew this already after just a short three weeks in each other's company. The persistent attempts of Ukitake and Kyouraku had done nothing to wheedle a detailed story out of the pair about how they met. All they would say is that they knew each other as children, growing up near Nagoya.

To be frank, Byakuya felt embarrassed that he had gloated about Renji saving his life when he hadn't even known of the connection with his own adopted sister.

Instead, Ukitake had drawn Renji competently into a conversation about the attempt on Byakuya's life. Renji described the incident in great detail, and Rukia hung on his every word as Renji acted out the whole attack, indicating the path of the sword up through his sleeve towards his ribs. Byakuya had not, in truth, considered the ultimate results had Renji not have been there. He found himself absently rubbing at his side. It would have been a slow, painful death, his lungs filling with blood and drowning him. Renji came up short on vividly describing that part of the scene. Byakuya could almost see Kyouraku mentally taking notes for a dramatic retelling. Rukia looked fiercely protective of them both, hearing about Renji's wounds.

"I've taken a lot worse punishment in battle," Renji insisted. "This was no worse than when we got caught by those yakuza as children, Rukia." He smiled then caught himself, realising suddenly that he'd referred to the lady of the house just with her first name. Rukia just laughed, saying "That was pretty rough..". Byakuya wondered what was between them, but studying his sister's face he only saw kindness and care.

"You must show us all your scars," Shunsui was busy saying to a blushing Renji. Byakuya almost snorted - was the man drunk just on tea? "The worst is on my back, but here is the cut healing from that time a few weeks ago.." he said, pulling up the hakama to reveal a smooth tanned thigh, thick muscles only marred by a red line across the top. Byakuya tore his gaze away from the pleasant spectacle. Kyouraku dared to run a finger across the mark and Renji hurriedly covered his leg again. "Shunsui, don't tease the poor boy," Ukitake was saying, glancing at Byakuya in an apologetic way.

He was relieved for Renji and for himself when the topic of conversation changed. Typically, it was Ukitake who came to the rescue. "I'm sure you've heard, Kuchiki-sama, that the shogunate forces have fled further north towards Aizu? You must be relieved that your lands are safe now." Byakuya nodded grimly. The shogun's forces seemed stubborn enough to see their cause through to the bitter end. He had not strictly taken sides in the conflict before Nagaoka was attacked - his father would have supported the emperor in his vision for modernity, and his grandfather would have stood by the shogun, the man to whom they technically owed all their wealth, lands and loyalty. "What is the emperor's intention?" Byakuya asked, looking at his cup.

"To build a better, stronger Japan," Ukitake started, then thought better of it. He evidently decided to choose honesty. "Some of the lords have surrendered their lands and titles to the emperor, for ample remuneration. The emperor intends to unite all the country, provide more structure. They will be given positions in the government, I think." Byakuya did not raise his eyes from the table. So, the Samurai way was dying. He would be the last Daimyo in his family. It was a painful thought to begin with, but in his heart he knew that he would not have an heir anyway, so it was already inevitable in a way, that he was the end of something. "What of their retainers? What will the samurai do?" he asked next, looking directly into the eyes of his mentor, ready for a twisting of the truth.

Ukitake had the decency to look away. "They will be compensated, too of course. There will be space for them, in industry, business, there are discussions of a Japanese National Army...". Byakuya looked at Renji and wondered whether the man would put down his sword in favour of a gun. He did not think it was likely.

*

He was relieved that Renji managed to extricate himself before Kyouraku inevitably started on the sake, and they all retired soon after, the warmth of the alcohol not enough to keep them outside as evening set in.

Settling himself in his library, Byakuya had a sinking feeling that he had overlooked something. He thought back to when he had found Rukia, only a young girl serving tea. It was so near the tea houses where he had first met Hisana, playing her shamisen so sweetly. He remembered the timidness and confusion on Rukia's face, which quickly changed to defiance and strength on seeing him paying the Mother for her, intent on taking her away. Hadn't there been a young man there too? He had appeared and kicked up a fuss when they'd left the tea house. A young man with red hair. All the impertinence and fiery looks might make sense, if his hazy memories were true. As did the way Renji had jittered with nervousness on that first meeting.

He made up his mind to call his bodyguard. Byakuya's heart was strangely fluttery as he heard sure-footed steps approach, kneel at the door and call out.

Renji kept his forehead to the ground obediently until he was told to rise. "Renji, why did you not tell me," he asked simply. The redhead's face was contorted, struggling not to speak honestly at first, but the emotions broke through. "I was furious, alright? When I came here I knew it was you that took her away, but when you made me your bodyguard you hardly gave me opportunity to refuse," he said "I didn't want this, knowing you took her away." Byakuya let the man continue, watching as he collected his thoughts. The initial rush of emotion ebbed from Renji's face and he seemed to calm somewhat. "But Kuchiki-sama seemed to care that Rukia was well looked after, so it suddenly didn't seem to matter as much what happened when we were kids. I tried to stay away so I wouldn't embarrass Kuchiki-sama through knowing her. That was never gonna happen, though, the way I look..." Renji finished.

"Did you think me so cruel?" Byakuya asked, picking at his hakama. It inexplicably hurt, to think Renji had hated him. "Kuchiki-sama isn't exactly approachable," Renji muttered.

A little heat of anger rose up in him. "You know about my late wife, I'm sure," he spoke quietly. It sounded icy even to his own ears but he knew how the older servants spoke about her, and her background. Renji nodded but did not offer any comment. "She was an Oiran, I met her in a tea house in Nagoya. She didn't know she had a sister until many years later, but when she passed away Hisana made me promise to find her sister and adopt her. She was concerned that Rukia would be sold just as her parents had sold her," Byakuya explained. "I know how it must have looked, however, to a young man trying to protect his friend."

Renji looked up, deep into his eyes. Byakuya hated explaining himself like this, but some part of him felt guilt for how he had handled the situation. He had been full of sharp grief when he'd found Rukia, and in no mood to placate or comfort either his new sister or her friend. He had been a young man, just in his twenties and already a widower after marrying so disgracefully in his father's eyes.

Renji nodded, a blazing light of loyalty and understanding in his eyes. 

"Then I owe Kuchiki-sama my life in turn for Rukia's happiness," Renji said. “I reckon we’re even, overall.” Byakuya could practically hear the smile, but he turned away from Renji and concentrated on the notes in front of him.

"You may spend time with Rukia whilst she visits. They return to the south in a few weeks. We are due to leave for Toyama castle soon after," he said. Renji left, knowing he was dismissed.

That blazing look of loyalty remained with Byakuya, burnt into him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a few more chapters written, so will keep posting intermittently. I hope the Hisana/Rukia background makes sense and fits in. 
> 
> History and Language Notes  
> For context, the Imperial forces in the Boshin war started assembling in the far south of Japan, and drove the remaining Shogunate supporters gradually north. The battle referenced in the chapter was the Battle of Hokuetsu, which ended with the castle at Nagaoka being set on fire and falling to the Imperial forces. Nagaoka is a medium ish journey North from Kanazawa along the coast. 
> 
> The main goal of the new Meiji Imperial Government was to centralise and unite Japan, which was very splintered by feudal politics. As well as modernising because they suddenly had some visitors from America with an alarmingly threatening level of military technology compared to....well, shitty Japanese swords, a few muskets, bows and spears.
> 
> 'Gozen' is the term you use for a lady. Look up Shizuka Gozen or Tomoe Gozen for some AWESOME BADASS JAPANESE LADIES. Technically Hisana was the lady of the house, and now Rukia is. 
> 
> Theatres were absolute dens of depravity with plenty of lust, gluttony, alcohol and bad language - so Kyoraku is right at home! Hisana being a courtesan, or an OIRAN is different from a Geisha. Geisha are artists. Oiran are actual courtesans with some serious dancing and seduction skills. It isn't too unheard of for them to bag a rich husband ;)
> 
> Male/male relationship in japan were **completely normal and accepted** in this time period, although usually took place between an older Samurai and a younger apprentice (which is of course morally gross). That makes Ukitake/Kyoraku a bit unusual in this story being both grown up adults, but still acceptable. Some Samurai expressed wishes to only be with men and even in the 19th century these arrangements between two samurai were treated as loving, monogamous relationships. Homosexual sex was considered manly. It was only the western influences creeping in that changed these attitudes over time.


	4. Slow burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The views were quite pleasant whilst the light held, but Byakuya found himself thinking that it would be better with Renji's hair down and rippling in the same wind that caught the ends of his hakama, showing flashes of tanned calves.

### September, 1868

It healed Renji's soul to have his friend returned to him, and it twisted him up a little to say goodbye again. But this time he knew that as long as he played his cards right and served Kuchiki-sama to the best of his abilities, there would be many visits and chances to see each other in the years to come.

They packed and mounted their horses to travel to Toyama on an overcast morning the following week. Renji slung his horsebow across his back and wore two swords to ride out. Kuchiki-sama was wearing his usual navy blue with the house crest stamped five times in white. The cherry blossom blade that had been poised at Renji's neck on that first day was joined by two others that looked like they were siblings. Seeing Kuchiki-sama on horseback again took Renji back to the night that Nagaoka castle burnt in the distance. When they had ridden into battle, his lord wearing deep blue armour, gold silk kimono peeking through at the shoulders and hakama wrapped tight around his lean calves. From a distance Renji had seen his keen eyes gleaming through the face mask on his helmet, twin horns curving up from his brow. It was funny, Renji thought, if he had been dressed in his armour that day in the woods when assassins had ambushed them, none of this would have happened. Renji would still be milling around at the back, waiting for Kuchiki-sama's sword raised on high to signal the charge.

At that moment the lord turned in his saddle, searching for Renji in the crowds of runners, pack animals and soldiers formed into a haphazard line in the courtyard. Renji nodded his greeting when their eyes met and rode over. "I suggest we follow the line of the woods, and avoid the coastline. The wind'll be cold at this time of year coming off the sea," Renji said. His lord grunted agreement and persuaded his horse into motion. Renji didn't look back. His life went forward with Kuchiki-sama.

The road to Toyama Bay ran north between the Sea of Japan coast on the left and tall mountains on their right. The road would be very empty, especially this late in the year. They wouldn't cross any borders, but the house banner at the head of the line would have quickly discouraged the border guards asking any questions anyway. It would be a long day's march to get there, and even though they'd started early it looked like they would end up marching in the dark. Renji felt uneasy about this, to him it seemed like an invitation for trouble, but he reminded himself that they were in the heart of the Kuchiki lands. Trouble was fairly unlikely, even in these times of change.

He had tried to put aside the news Ukitake had brought with him about the government, thinking that he would ask Byakuya about it when he had a chance. But when the opportunities came for discussion, walking to training and after meals, he had not known what to ask. He couldn't imagine a time when he didn't have a place - he couldn't imagine what the future that Ukitake described would look like. The first time he had seen guns and western soliders, he had thought it was another world that would always stay separate from his own.

A few hours into the journey, his lord turned to him and hissed at him to stop fidgeting. Renji took this as a cue to calm down and concentrate. When they paused at midday the group left the road entirely for the banks of a clear mountain spring. Renji gathered up some food and found his lord had walked a good way up the banks away from the party. "Kuchiki-sama shouldn't wander off. They'll blame me if something happens, so for my sake, stay close," Renji sighed, handing his lord a bowl of rice, pickled vegetables and fried fish, then sitting down on the log next to his lord.

"I've been meaning to ask," Renji started. "What Ukitake-sama was saying, does that mean we'll all have to join the army? Move where the emperor wants us?" Byakuya seemed irritated by Renji's usual blunt questioning, but he simply responded "I do not know." Renji considered this surprisingly humble response. "I can't imagine...you not being my Daimyo - " he stopped and corrected himself "- Not having a Daimyo, or a place to call home." That was perhaps too honest even for him, Renji thought, shuffling his feet awkwardly at the admission. His lord was sat straight, knees wide, and Renji thought perhaps that he had picked the wrong time after all. He decided to change the topic of conversation.

"Do you miss Kuchiki-gozen?" Renji said after a while, between mouthfuls of miso soup.

"She's been dead a long time Renji," Kuchiki-sama said quietly.  
"Oh...sorry Kuchiki-sama, I meant Rukia, not..." Renji stuttered and comprehension dawned on his lords face. Renji kicked himself, wondering how many times he could put his foot in his mouth in one simple conversation sat on a bloody log in a forest. "Ah. I am not used to Rukia being referred to as Kuchiki-gozen. Perhaps it hasn't been that long after all," Kuchiki-sama said, raising his eyebrows as if surprised by his own actions. "I would never have nosed about Hisana-Gozen," Renji tried to explain.  
"She spent a lot of time at Toyama. The sea air was good for her when she was unwell, perhaps that is why I assumed..."  
"I heard she was very graceful.." Renji offered, then cringed. Complimenting your lord's dead wife felt like a surefire way to make everything even more awkward. But his eating companion seemed suddenly contented. "She danced beautifully, but sang poorly," there was a hint of a fond smile in his lord's profile at the memory. Relieved, Renji leaned in conspiratorially and whispered "Rukia can't sing either." Laughing to himself, he glanced sideways, looking for another smile and realised how close those grey eyes were. He abruptly stopped laughing and sat up straight.

"Can you?" Kuchiki-sama said. Renji was dumbstruck, held by that keen stare for a moment before responding "I...well, yeah." His lord's gaze moved back to appreciating the landscape.

"Sing to me."

 _What. The. Hell._ Renji coughed nervously. It seemed right to sing a poem, as he was singing on his own, unaccompanied except by the trickling stream and faint breeze. He chose the first poem he could think of that felt like autumn.

_At the end of autumn  
When the insect voices cease  
I would have him ask  
'Is he alive or dead?'1_

As he finished, another voice rose up. His lord sang in a deep rich voice that quite surprised Renji. The lord looked relaxed as he sang, a touch younger.

_Forsaking the mists  
That rise in spring  
Wild geese fly off.  
They have learned to live  
In a land without flowers._ 2

They sat in silence for a moment as Renji processed the verses. Had the lord been thinking about spring, as they sat waiting for winter? Renji shouldn't have been surprised that a learned man like Kuchiki-sama knew poetry, and could respond thematically, as if they were sat in a garden on a spring day. In another life, he could imagine them composing haiku for pretty ladies in the court of the emperor. "A land without flowers won't do. You even carry them on your sword," Renji said.  
"Is that what they look like to you?" Kuchiki-sama responded, a faint smile playing around his mouth.  
"What are they meant to be?"  
"Hisana said it looked like blood had already been spattered up the blade," the lord responded "But the intent was sakura, I believe."

Renji was drawn back to those grey eyes. "Beautiful," he muttered "..the swords are beautiful." _Idiot!_ He turned away and got up, stretching zealously as if to shake off the tension. He heard Kuchiki-sama rise behind him. "Show me your blade," he said, and the tension swooped back in tenfold. Renji swiftly knelt, eyes down, drawing and presenting his sword on upturned palms for his lord's inspection. Pale hands swam into his peripheral vision, gently slipping under his own to accept the weight of the offered sword. Kuchiki-sama spoke in a considered fashion. "Jagged, like a range of mountains, or the fangs of a snake. It suits you, Renji." The lord's hands were soft and warm, the callouses from sword practice just about discernible against Renji's own knuckles.

Footsteps scuffling along the path through the long grasses and brush has Renji scrabbling upright, stepping in front of his charge. But soon enough a messenger appeared running up the bank of the stream. "Kuchiki-sama. A small group of ronin has been seen entering Toyama, a rider just came to meet us. They are urging us to hurry back and protect the town, they're worried someone might attempt to burn down the castle," the runner said, head bowed.

*

The familiar sight of Toyama Bay greeted them as the sun began to sink. Everyone on horseback, only thirty five or so armed men in all, had hurried ahead to bolster the castle defences. The rest came on foot and wouldn't arrive for another few hours at least. The castle was on flat land, near the river Jizū and unfortunately had burned down several times since the Kuchiki clan had owned it. Toyama was hemmed in by the mountains on three sides and the sea on the last so didn't have much tactical advantage. In Byakuya's mind it was much better placed as a residence than a military asset. By burning it down they would be seeking to hurt him, personally.

Sloped walls of stone and a moat surrounded the outer walls of the castle, with several smaller towers and one central keep. His rooms were near the riverside walls, nestled in the gardens in the shadow of the keep. Riding under the central gate to calls of greeting from the soldiers on the walls, he had to admit that he was pleased to slip out of the saddle. He had spent the afternoon looking at Renji's back - the man had insisted he rode at the head of the column, and at some points they had ridden hard through gullies and narrow points in the road to avoid tarrying where they were vulnerable. The views were quite pleasant whilst the light held, but Byakuya found himself thinking that it would be better with Renji's hair down and rippling in the same wind that caught the ends of his hakama, showing flashes of tanned calves.

Byakuya didn't spare a glance behind him, but knew Renji was following. The Toyama bodyguards were rushing to catch up, and he heard Renji acknowledge them, introducing himself as they fell into step. The sight of the gardens made him relax a little, but he sensed it would be a long night without much sleep under the threat of violence. He slipped inside his rooms and heard Renji pause to discuss plans with his comrades.

Looking around he saw things set up exactly as Hisana had liked them, with ikebana displays in the nooks and jewel coloured ceramics, but this only gave him slight pause. There was also hot water in the bath and food steaming on the table. There would be a brief reprieve, it seemed. Renji slipped back into the room, softly muttering pardons. "The rebels are in two groups at an Izakaya in town, and ferreting around in the woods to the North. The soldiers have sorted shifts. I'll stay here with Kuchiki-sama," Renji explained, bowing and making his way to an alcove in the corner, where he sat casually, removing his swords from his belt and taking off his tabi socks. Byakuya was struck with fondness for this self-sufficient, un-fussy man who appeared happy enough at the prospect of sitting in a cupboard all night. "Abarai, come and eat," he ordered, Renji looked up in surprise. "I will take a bath first, then you may wash."

As Renji bowed and solemnly crept forward to peek in the covered dishes of food, Byakuya turned away, satisfied that his bodyguard would be fed at least. He tried not to take too long washing, so the water was still warm enough for his protector. When he emerged again Renji was tentatively nibbling on some pickled vegetables and plain rice. "Go and wash," he said softly, and off the redhead scampered, inhaling the last of his rice before rising. He had the sudden impression of a teenager, scoffing his food so that he wouldn't miss the start of some important fight. Byakuya took the opportunity to dress in a warm kimono, and brushed his hair out before it got too tangled. He adjusted his obi so it was slung low over his hips, comfortable enough for sleeping but not under-dressed should he need to rise suddenly.

Predictably, Renji had left the best food untouched. Byakuya enjoyed a good meal, saving half of the sweets for Renji, as he knew the man had a sweet tooth. The younger man must have shown a great deal of restraint not touching them before his bath, Byakuya mused. The redhead padded out of the bathroom fully dressed in his travel clothes again, looking mussed and a great deal more at ease, if it weren't for the sheathed wakizashi he held in his left hand.

Renji retrieved his katana before sitting at the table, placing both swords within arms reach. Considering for a moment, Byakuya pushed the plate of mochi towards his companion and and then his own comb. A sudden urge washed over him to settle behind Renji and brush that wild hair, but he stamped it out. That was most certainly an indulgence he couldn't permit himself. He realised he'd been staring and Renji was looking at him strangely. "Can I do anything for Kuchiki-sama?" Renji asked, voice husky from the long, comfortable silence. Byakuya debated how to respond without inviting further question on his odd behaviour. A simple statement usually sufficed, so he rose and said "I'm going to sleep." He sensed a slight slump to Renji's shoulders - disappointment? Or relief?

 _Why do I do this to myself?_ Byakuya thought as he slipped into the futon, which had been unnaturally laid out in the main living space. There was no way he could deny the attraction to his bodyguard any more. He had been entirely too laid back, too fond, since they had aired their grievances about Rukia. Renji's energy was admired by everyone, but Byakuya had quickly come to realise that he held a particular appreciation for Renji's strength and good-nature. Renji was so very strong. Byakuya turned his head deeper into his pillow, pressing away thoughts of his bodyguard's broad shoulders and the sharp jut of his hips. Renji naturally stood out from the crowd because of his height, and that ridiculous red hair. But Byakuya always sought him out with his own traitorous eyes.

What made it worse was how Renji laboured hard at his job without question, and took pride in doing it well. Even on that first night, despite being overwhelmed and distracted, Renji had nonetheless vowed to let no harm come to his lord. Perhaps Byakuya could allow that Renji wasn't poor choice to be attracted to.

Byakuya lay with his back to the other man, his ears pricked for slightest noise. He heard the bodyguard shift, quietly finishing his food, then go still. Sleep was evasive with a single lantern still lit in the corner (never mind the untold emotions running around in his head). But after a short while the lantern went out, as if Renji had sensed his struggle from the other side of the room.

*

A warm hand softly shook his shoulder, pulling him from sleep. It was pitch dark. He knew it was Renji.

When he heard the footsteps hissing down the corridor towards their room he was immediately wide awake. He caught the glint of Renji's wakizashi being drawn. Byakuya slipped free of his blankets and retrieved his katana from next to the futon. There was space to use his katana, he decided, as long as they weren't both welding longer swords inside. Renji didn't try to move in front or push him out of the way. It was pointless to take on multiple enemies, single-handedly in the dark. Renji knew that. Byakuya flexed his back and widened his stance to loosen the kimono for fighting.

The door slid open and three figures in black poured into the space, just as shouts and calls started up outside in the courtyard. Renji ducked a knife thrown from the first man and moved to the side, giving Byakuya space to move in, appearing out of the shadows to slash at the man at the back of the group. The assailant yelped in pain and collapsed backwards through the door into darkness, clutching his neck. Renji's size was more intimidating in an enclosed space, and the redhead knew it, glowering down on the leader, who drew a tanto from his belt and attacked. The assassins were quick footed and acrobatic. Renji did not change tactic, simply grasping his opponent's sword arm at the first opportunity and pulling, pressing his own katana against the man's throat. Byakuya quickly pounced on the last man in the room, sword sinking into his back even as he turned to Renji, ready to strike.

Just as the second assassin fell, gurgling, Renji's prisoner twisted free and slashed wildly, forcing them both to retreat. Byakuya felt a spatter of blood land, warm and sticky, on his neck as the attacker tumbled out of the door and ran. They both made to give chase but pulled back after only a few steps. The assassin had thrown the doors open and was already out in the garden, running full tilt with several soldiers on his heels. Across the courtyard curls of smoke emanated from the main gate and one of the southern towers, groups of soldiers rushing to put out the fire.

Byakuya turned to Renji, about to comment on the attack, but he stopped short at the look in Renji's eyes. In the firelight from the lanterns, the redhead pinned him to the spot with the intensity of his eyes, sword still held loosely in his hand. "Are you hurt?" he asked. Byakuya returned his gaze steadily. "No." It came out as a whisper. Renji raised his hand and wiped the blood from his lord's jaw with the pad of his thumb. The touch tingled and Byakuya licked his lips before he caught himself. Glancing back up he saw the adrenaline burning in the bodyguard's eyes and an exhilarating surge of arousal shot through him. Renji was leaning towards him, warm hand pulling Byakuya forward, tilting his chin upwards.

A shout from outside brought them back to reality, and they realised where they were. Several men ran through the gardens carrying water. They pulled away from each other. The smoke and the scent of blood pooling from the two dead assassins in Byakuya's living room came back into focus.

"I should get this sorted," Renji muttered. "Kuchiki-sama." He bowed and strode away. Byakuya watched him disappear into the shadows of the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry for making them sing - Bya's voice actor has such a pretty voice after all. 
> 
> History and Language Notes
> 
> Tanka by:  
> 1 Fujiwara Mototoshi  
> 2 Lady Ise
> 
> They're both carrying katana and shorter wakizashi (generally made as a pair) as was the custom when out and about. The assassins have tanto, the smallest type of Japanese sword.
> 
> Toyama Castle has indeed burned down several times, and rebuilt. The photos of it in spring are just beautiful!


	5. Stark contrast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byakuya needs a push - maybe sake is the answer? And poetry. Definitely poetry.

### October, 1868

The fearful tension amongst the castle inhabitants in the days after the assassination attempt was nothing like the roiling tension Renji felt whenever he saw Kuchiki-sama. Renji suspected that his lord was actually taunting him, and desperately clung to his professionalism. Kuchiki-sama often left his hair down in the evenings now and Renji wanted to bury his hands in the shining sheet of inky black. The lord had developed a habit of taking long walks around the garden at sunset. Renji had to force himself to walk a step behind and simply gaze at the back of his lords long graceful neck. Renji's objective acknowledgement that his lord was beautiful had somehow turned into raging desire, and he wasn't sure when it had happened. He figured his more amorous feelings had become all mixed up in his duty to protect the man. But overall he wasn't one for thinking, so he couldn't trust his head, whatever his dick was saying.

Renji had found a patch of late autumn sunshine to lounge in at the top of the keep. There was a spectacular view across the bay up at the top and the cool air helped clear his mind. Thinking back to that night he had to wonder whether he'd imagined the ravenous look in his lord's eye in the firelight. Renji was fairly sure that Kuchiki-sama had been with men before - it was common for young samurai to have an older mentor and lover. Many of the soldiers Renji knew had arrangements with someone a few years younger. Renji keenly remembered the two years he'd spent with lithe and solemn Hisagi-senpai when he was a teenager, long before ending up in Kanazawa.

Two adult men taking up with each other, like Ukitake and Kyouraku, was less common. If he was _with_ Kuchiki-sama, their difference in status would take the place of their meagre difference in age. It made him nervous. Did he mind submitting to his lord? He already did in many senses - it was his duty to to put his very life on the line. Would he mind being a lover in private and a bodyguard in public? Could he cope with that cold demeanour in exchange for some gratification...admittedly from the most beautiful man he'd ever seen? What happened when his lord got bored? Remarried?

Asking himself these questions made Renji realise how hard he'd already fallen. Unfortunately he knew it was impossible for him to make the first move. Renji was quite glad they'd been interrupted that night otherwise he might have done something stupid and stepped out of line. He would have to find ways to encourage his lord instead. And with that happy notion ticking over in his head, he surrendered his lookout at the top of the tower and began the long climb down through hatches and steep staircases, emerging at the bottom in the courtyard.

A team of workmen was busy re-tiling the roof of the central gate and repairing the walkways that had been singed in the attack. They had found out afterwards that the group numbered only twenty men in total. However an elite group of 5 had broken in first, opening a side door to let the rest in and starting fires to distract the guards before 3 had broken off, making for Kuchiki-sama himself. Two of Renji's bodyguards had their throats slit where they stood on watch. The last man standing - an athletic, previously gregarious type - now looked vaguely hollow and bereft as Renji made his way to the lord's quarters. Three or four regular soldiers were posted nearby for extra security.

It was just after lunch, when Renji would usually spar with Kuchiki-sama. He fancied a change of pace, though, and grabbed his bow on the way past the weapons rack near the backdoor. He vaguely remembered an archery range at the other end of the garden, from his previous visit to the castle the summer before.

Kuchiki-sama was walking out of his rooms, sliding his sword into place in the folds of his obi, as Renji strolled up, bow in hand. "Would it be alright if we practice archery today?" Renji asked with a smile. The lord looked up at him in the middle of tying the sageo cord from his katana onto his hakama. He seemed to consider for a moment and then nodded, finishing the knot and motioning for Renji to fetch another bow. A quiet contingent of soldiers followed them through the weaving garden paths to a narrow walled garden, where they took up posts at the doorway.

The shooting range was wide enough for the two men to stand side by side with a metre or so between them, but they would take turns. It felt private, in the walled garden surrounded by whispering bamboo. He watched as Kuchiki-sama untied the swords at his waist again and stood them up against the wall, then worked his left shoulder free of his kimono. It was traditional to keep your left arm bare, so that your sleeve didn't catch the string of the bow and ruin the shot. "It's been a while since I practised, so Kuchiki-sama will have to excuse me if I make a fool of myself," Renji grinned, setting aside his bow. He had to loosen off his kimono quite a bit to shoulder out of it. Kuchiki-sama pointedly looked away and inspected his bowstring. "I'm afraid my father was quite an adept, and he taught me well. You may have to accept being shown up no matter how much you practice," came the predictably haughty reply.

"Practising with Kuchiki-sama isn't a hardship," Renji shrugged, taking up position on the right hand side of the shooting range and calmly taking aim. He drew the bow high over his head and dropped it to sight down the arrow, breathing in before releasing smoothly. The technique was right but the arrow went a little too wide, hitting the edge of the target and dangling feebly. He thought he heard a slight scoff from his shooting partner. He tried to concentrate and shot again, this time grazing the second ring inside the target. The third arrow landed much the same. Renji loped forwards to collect his arrows. "As expected, pretty shocking," he sighed, flopping onto the floor as his lord stepped up to take his turn.  
"You don't suit the bow," Kuchiki-sama said, nocking the arrow. "Your temperament is much better suited to the sword, or naginata maybe." With effortless grace, his lord drew, aimed and loosed the arrow neatly into the centre of the target. Renji whistled in appreciation of the shot. "No surprise that Kuchiki-sama achieves perfect scores at everything," he laughed, leaning back and stretching out his legs casually. "The naginata is a good call, it's served me well in the past."  
"Then why choose the bow today?" Kuchiki-sama asked, an eyebrow raised in his direction briefly before he turned and drew his bow again. "To admire your form, what else?" Renji said, just as the lord loosed. He was satisfied to see the arrow stray just an inch from where it should have been. The lord appeared unfazed. "Watching a master is the best way to learn, right?" Renji continued.

Without any interference or distraction, the last of Kuchiki-sama's arrows hit dead centre. Renji didn't miss the opportunity to appreciate the play of muscles in his lord's arm and back as he fetched his arrows. "Did Kuchiki Soujun-sama also teach you to use the sword?" Renji asked. Kuchiki-sama looked vaguely amused at the concept. "My father was much more interested in poetry and tea-ceremony than battle. Kyudo just about passed as an art form. Swords did not," the lord responded.  
"Really? I wouldn't..." Renji couldn't personally imagine archery as anything but warfare.  
"The meditative nature of repeating the same action, perfectly drawing and releasing with the same motion to hit the centre of the target. That is what drew him to Kyudo," Kuchiki-sama explained, returning with spent arrows in hand.  
Renji got to his feet and brushed off his hakama. "That's definitely what I'm doing wrong then...." he laughed. "I've never been one for quiet contemplation."  
"No, you are most definitely a man of action," Kuchiki-sama said, with what could almost be described as a smirk.

It could have been taken as an invitation, and Renji couldn't suppress a wolfish grin. Renji wasn't looking for an invitation, though. Perhaps it was a fool's errand, he thought. Here they were, a self confessed man of action waiting for a man of unerring stillness and contemplation to break and act on his obvious desire. Renji looked into the lords eyes, and felt a thrill of victory when the other broke his gaze first.  
Perhaps it wasn't so helpless after all.

*

Byakuya didn't know what the man was playing at.

That was a lie.

Renji had started playing the exact game he himself had been relishing for days. Evening trips to secluded spots in the garden, a distinct informality of dress, and thinly veiled comments were all employed to try and recreate that blazing heat he'd seen in the bodyguard's eyes after the assassination attempt. Just as Byakuya was starting to think that Renji didn't appreciate this level of subtlety, he was gifted with a grin so truly feral and lecherous he was afraid of being manhandled and ravished right there in the archery range. Something seemed to make his bodyguard think better of it, however.

To say that Byakuya was afraid of being ravished was a slight twisting of the truth. He was sure he would quite relish it, in truth. It had been so long since he received any sort of affection, and he wasn't sure he could bear the soft attentions of a woman. The harder, the more masculine, the better. They were both grown men, they knew what they wanted.

Byakuya paused at that. They were both grown men, of different stations...which presented some challenges amongst their peers if their relationship was flaunted too obviously. Perhaps this was what had given Renji pause? How irritating. Had Renji not seen how at ease Byakuya was in the presence of Jyushiro and Shunsui's obvious infatuation that day in the tea house? How could Renji not understand, after hearing Hisana's history, that Byakuya followed his instincts and his heart more than the rules? Despite the personal costs. He sighed, not sure he had the patience to tend to Renji's insecurities.

Right now, Renji was sat not two meters away on the veranda outside Byakuya's rooms. Just the paper screens between them. There was a soft hum as Renji sang to himself, apparently contented. The bodyguard would not sleep for several hours yet, even though it was late. Byakuya had been nursing a small jug of warmed sake in his study, listening to the cicadas and the soft sound of running water from the garden. And then Renji's singing.

Sake usually made him melancholy, liable to compose poetry and be charmed by stupid notions like the impermanence of sakura blossoms on the breeze. He snorted. Probably his father's genes running true. He stilled midway through tipping back the next cup, a sudden thought coming to mind. Perhaps this mood was something he could mould to his advantage. His father had a certain knack for attracting lovers, after all, and Renji had shown some understanding of literature. Byakuya considered this, swishing the sake jug around in his hand, before coming upon a suitable verse in his memory. Vaguely tipsy as he was, he chose something he would usually consider almost gauche, but apparently Renji was not one for subtlety. Yes, it was perfect, he smiled. It had the implication of waiting too long, admitted mutual desire, and a clear invitation to get into his bed. Nothing for Renji to misconstrue. But how to deliver the message?

Taking the sake and cup with him, he rose and walked across the room closer to where Renji's song came muffled through the sliding doors. Observing the redhead through a crack in the screens, Byakuya nudged a cushion across the tatami with his foot, making a clear rasping sound that made Renji stop singing and glance over his shoulder towards the room. _I have your attention, good._ Byakuya deposited the drink on the floor by the cushion, throwing back the remaining sake in his cup. He nonchalantly picked out a book from his shelf, in case he was required to feign distraction or disinterest. Then he began to sing.

_Whether you might come  
Or I go to you -  
As I wavered,  
My door unlocked  
I fell asleep. _

Byakuya waited, breathing shallow, for any sign of movement. After a few minutes, the deep hum of Renji's voice started up again, a steady buzz from the other side of the screen. But the redhead did not come when summoned.  
  
He left his door unlocked that night when he went to sleep, true to the sentiment of the poem. But the bodyguard still didn't appear. Eventually the sake put him to sleep with very little space for dissatisfaction.

The next morning, Byakuya found a neat piece of paper slipped under the door. The handwriting was messy, but after a few moments he made it out:

_Was it you who came to me  
Or I who went to you -  
I know not.  
Was it dream or reality,  
Sleeping or awake?_

Byakuya slipped the paper into the front of his kimono. Faced with the memory of his own song the night before, his cheeks felt suddenly warm. He vowed to give sake a wide berth for a few weeks at least.

Maybe he was his father's son after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops I did it again. Promise promise I won't keep doing this much longer. I just always feel these two need to sort things out in their heads before they actually act, because there's always rank/status complications...
> 
> My head canon is that Byakuya's dad was v. camp and gentle, and absolutely did not want to be on the battlefield thank you very much. That's what grandad was for. 
> 
> Also, once they get closer Renji will absolutely start using 'Byakuya' rather than 'his lord' because that's driving me mad.
> 
> History and Language Notes
> 
> Poetry:  
> 1 anon. from the Kokinshū, which is a super old collection of Japanese poetry  
> 2 From the Ise Monogatari, which is a famous long-form poem in Japanese literature
> 
> Other words:  
> Sageo - there's a cord on katana that you tie to your hakama, basically keeps the scabbard attached to your trousers haha  
> Kyūdo - japanese archery, often practised by monks, so it's gotta be meditative right?


	6. Soft Breaths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Renji could hear his lord trying not to move. His breathing came in carefully measured puffs, trying not to make much noise. The rain still pattered against the walls. “Will you be able to sleep?” Renji whispered.  
> “I don’t know,” came a soft reply.  
> “Let me help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're doing this guys. 
> 
> Sorry it's taken me longer to post this - I've had some life shit going on and I wasn't initially very happy with this chapter, so I rewrote it a few times. 
> 
> Thanks so much for your kudos and comments, it's real nice of you all.

### November, 1868

A rider came to summon them away before Renji's lust reached the point of action. The messenger was from Edo, where it the imperial government had settled for long enough to start summoning a stream of feudal lords. Renji knew what they would ask. They would ask for Kuchiki-sama's loyalty, his lands, his title and his absolute submission. As his bodyguard, Renji felt a twinging instinct to protect him from this. However it was not his place to protect his lord from the emperor himself. Or the emperor's bureaucrats.

Kuchiki-sama was suitably grim throughout their preparations. And he had reason to be, after the second messenger arrived with news about the battle at Aizu. The last of the shogun's rebels had made a stand and lost. It wasn't entirely unexpected, nor did they have any strong feelings about the end of the rebellion. But when the castle at Aizu had been set ablaze, 19 young teenage samurai had committed ritual suicide, believing their families dead. A whole generation of the samurai elite from several families had been wiped out. The other rebels were sent away to prisoner of war camps. This was enough bad news on its own without the prospect of a long journey to Edo ahead of them.

It would take them ten days to reach the capital on horseback, first following the coast north then turning south to skirt the mountains. The mountains that loomed down on Toyama from all sides would be threatening snow before the end of the month, and getting back home to Kanazawa would be very difficult that late in the year. So, grim but determined, they planned to set off before the week was out. They intended to take 80 men, but only 40 horses and warm gear for 30 could be found. So messengers rode out to Matsumoto, asking the border forces to join their retinue for the last half of the journey.

The sea winds were sharp but refreshing on the first day of their journey. Renji turned his face into them. His skin was pink and taught by nightfall. The next day the wind made its best effort at slicing through his clothes, numbing his fingers, and he rued leaving the castle at all. Everyone was relieved when they turned inland, the mountains rising at sharp angles out of flat plains and glittering rice fields. The road was well maintained, and they made good progress in mild weather for a few days.

Kuchiki-sama talked even less than normal. At first Renji tried to engage him in conversation, nattering away about the scenery and asking about Edo. He soon recognised that Kuchiki-sama was mentally preparing himself for the task ahead and wouldn't be drawn into conversation. Renji had to make his own entertainment and find other company. He counted birds, played at throwing smooth pebbles back and forth between the younger men on horseback around him. Occasionally a particularly graceful curve of the road called, and he would spur his horse forward, riding hard for a few minutes to shake off his restlessness at their steady pace. He relished the few minutes he spent alone surveying the path ahead before everyone caught up.

If his lord disapproved, he didn't show it. Kuchiki-sama would appear round the corner, apparently confident that he would find Renji waiting. He would catch Renji's eye and make room for him to slip back into the line. A space on his lord's right hand side. Renji had started thinking of it has his rightful place.

They boarded each night at whatever temple they came across on the road, paying the monks in offerings of rice, or simply prayers. On one occasion they paid in tea and spices after being offered a much-treasured warm bath and hot food before bed.

Before, in the time before the scar on his thigh, Renji camped in fields with his fellow soldiers on trips like this. He had spent many a restless night listening to the canvas wind breakers snapping back and forth in the night breeze. Being Kuchiki-sama's bodyguard however, he now had the luxury of sleeping in the temple under an actual roof. He had been utterly spoiled, Renji thought miserably on the fourth night of their journey, watching rain drip off the brim of his hat.

They were a pitiful sight, shuffling along the road whilst the sky emptied buckets on them. He was debating just falling face-first into a puddle and drowning himself, but voicing this thought got him a veritable glower from Kuchiki-sama. Four days of travel had not improved the lord's mood.

It was a few hours before they finally came across a temple, and by that point Renji's robes were slick and plastered to his skin despite the rush cape he was wearing. The greeting from the temple monks was promising, at least. They bowed low to Kuchiki-sama, eyes darting reverently to the emblazoned standards at the head of the line. The Kuchiki crest was just visible in the fading light, soaked through and flapping pathetically. Renji unstrapped several bundles from their baggage and followed their hosts under the gate and into shadows of the temple grounds.

It was more ordered and neat than some of the rural shrines they had stopped at so far. The main hall was grander; sloping eaves and dark beams painted even darker by the rain. The weather had washed away the smells of incense and brought out the clean smell of stone paving instead. They made for a small building stranded on its own behind the hall, two monks rushing out ahead under umbrellas to light lanterns on the veranda. Their guides slipped inside ahead of them, and Renji heard faint shuffling and rattling noises as they tidied up for the guests. They hadn’t expected travellers to appear on a grim November night like this.

Finally under cover, Renji slumped down on the step and shucked off the wet straw cape. It sagged dejectedly under its own weight. He grimaced as he peeled of his socks and threw them aside with the cape before shouldering their baggage and stepping inside. The building was actually just one self-contained room, with a narrow band of wooden floorboards surrounding tatami matting under a painted ceiling. Two lumpy futon had been dragged out from storage, and a single lantern lit in the corner. The room was warm enough, sheltered from the wind between the temple proper and the surrounding trees. Rain spattered occasionally on the southern wall, as if gently soliciting entry.

The monks were bowing to Kuchiki-sama, making their exit. But the lords eyes were averted and his back impossibly straight. He looked uncomfortable, and mildly bedraggled. Renji was fairly certain that part of his mood was just being cold and wet and tired. But there was something underneath it too. Kuchiki-sama had been sour-faced and practically dejected for days. Understandable when facing the fact that Kuchiki Byakuya himself would be the last in his family to be a Daimyo. _Well. It hasn't happened quite yet,_ Renji thought to himself. He was determined not to let the spirit go out of his lord.

Perhaps, his time to act had come.

When the doors shut and they were alone, Renji broke the silence. “Give me your wet clothes, I’ve got some dry ones here,” he said, trying to be practical. Kuchiki-sama stood visibly straighter at the suggestion, so Renji made himself busy, kneeling where he was at the edge of the room and digging in his pack for the fresh clothes and dry towels.

He heard the wet thud of damp clothing hit the floor behind him. If he turned around, he would find Kuchiki-sama wearing practically nothing. _What a marvellous time to be alive,_ he thought, then consciously steadied his breathing. He would have to ease Kuchiki-sama into it. Schooling his expression into one of modesty, Renji stood up and then slowly turned, a bundle of dry robes in his outstretched hand.

Renji took in little impressions before the whole scene registered; arms covered in goosebumps from the cold, dark hair sticking to a pale neck, bare feet curling into the tatami. Their eyes met as Kuchiki-sama reached for the robes. There was a faint tint on his cheeks, a hesitant look in his eye. Renji watched him feel for the collar of the new kimono and unfold it around bare shoulders, graceful hands wrapping it tight, skimming over the creases. The movements were nervous, and not quite as graceful as usual, so Renji tried not to take too much pleasure in watching this peerless man get into his clothes.

Instead he simply waited for those grey eyes to flicker upwards again. He met them with a smile, and it was thrilling, in the silence. Renji didn’t break the gaze as he untied his sword, slipping it from his obi and pressing it into Kuchiki-sama's hands. Then he loosened the front of his robe a little, untied his hakama. He watched his lords gaze follow them to the floor. Broad shoulders rolled out of the wet kimono, and his lord's eyes slid heavily over the tanned skin as it was revealed, as if his gaze was willing the fabric off and down, away. “You must be cold,” Renji said. It was an offer, and a challenge. “I am... warm enough, Renji,” came the quiet reply. _Yeah ya are_ Renji thought.

For the thrill, he took a step forward, and was rewarded with a flash of heat in Kuchiki-sama's eyes, an almost imperceptible shudder and knuckles turning white where they gripped Renji's katana. A good response, but he didn’t want to push it. Yet. Renji brushed past the lord to fetch his own clothes, tying the kimono loosely at the waist to leave a long slice of his chest on show. Kuchiki-sama still stood in the centre of the room, looking a little lost.

“Get into bed, Kuchiki-sama,” Renji said, gently taking the sword, brushing his thumb across the lord's knuckles in parting. Hesitantly, the other man did as was suggested.

Renji wasn’t questioned when he shifted the two futon closer together. He paused, then stowed his katana in the gap between their beds before blowing out the lantern. The sword was Renji's promise, mostly to himself, that he wouldn't cross that boundary. But Kuchiki-sama could, if he wanted to. Renji silently set himself the goal of making his lord breach the barrier.

Climbing into the warm covers was heavenly, but the silence was heavy. Renji could hear his lord trying not to move. His breathing came in carefully measured puffs, trying not to make much noise. The rain still pattered against the walls. “Will you be able to sleep?” Renji whispered.  
“I don’t know,” came a soft reply.  
“Let me help.”

A pause.

“How?”  
“I won’t even touch you, if you don’t want me to.”  
“...that’s not...”

Renji licked his lips and exhaled. “I’m aching to touch, but I can just talk, as long as you don’t mind me touching myself as we go,” he said at last. There was a little hitched breath. He looked over, just able to make out the profile of his lord in the dim light, throat bobbing as he swallowed. Renji pressed ahead. “The way you look at me sometimes, just goes straight through me like lightning. Kuchiki-sama must know how hot it is, that look you give me...” he went back to looking at the ceiling. “That night with the assassins, I was so close to wrapping my fingers in your kimono and dragging you closer. I wanted to kiss you until you couldn’t breathe." He permitted himself a private smile in the darkness. "I think you wanted it too, right?” He didn’t hear an answer, but the breathing sharpened almost imperceptibly.

“I’ve been trying to tell you ever since. That poem you sang almost made me break. Then when I tried your door and it actually wasn’t locked...kami,” Renji sighed, not even trying to hide the rustle of the covers as he slid his hand down to run teasingly across the line of his fundoshi. They were tighter, now, than was comfortable. “Did you want me to slip into your room, for real? Or was it just the sake?”  
"..It was not _just_ the sake."  
"I figured you were the type that might need a little courage to make the first move," Renji chuckled, looking back at the pile of blankets and fresh-ink hair spilled across the tatami. "I'm not meant to make the first move, you know. Think how shameful it would be, if someone found your bodyguard shoving you up against a wall and fucking you." He gave in and touched himself then, hissing a little at the sensation, heart thumping as he stroked himself into full hardness. There was no response, just a sense of anticipation which went on and on and on. "It really will help you sleep, if you join in," he prompted.

"Keep talking."

Renji groaned softly, squeezing himself a little tighter. "I can't believe I'm lying here in a temple with my hand wrapped around my cock, talking to you like this." He let his breaths come panting for a few strokes. "It's been a while for you hasn't it?" Renji looked over and caught the glint of his lord's eyes on him. "How long has it been?"  
"Years." The response was slightly breathy, followed by a hint of movement beneath the covers. Renji dared to hope, then dared to speak.  
"Are you touching yourself yet?"  
"Yes."  
"Next time I'll touch you. And you can put your hands all over me. I know you want to... _ahh_...You can bite..and scratch and grab at me all you want." Renji whispered, breath hitching as his hand sped up minutely.

There were an indefinite number of moments where they just listened to each other's breathing, the soft sounds of two people pleasuring themselves. In separate beds, with a cold blade lying between them. Renji tried to pick up on all the changes in his lord's breathing, the rhythm of his movements.

"I know we're both men...adults...all that, but are we allowed to take it in turns fucking each other?" he asked. He only got a soft moan in response. Renji flicked some of the covers of himself, suddenly warm, his chest and thigh on show in the dim light. He was much further along than he'd thought. They'd spent long weeks in teasing each other. "Kami...Daimyō...Do you want to watch me cum?" he offered.  
"Yes." The reply was instant, and Renji shrugged off the rest of the blanket, opening his kimono, spreading his legs and relaxing back. He worked up and down his dick roughly, giving a little twist for good measure. His breathing was ragged, especially now that he could feel his lord's eyes dipping, watching him, breaths stuttering out from under the covers next to him. He imagined what it would be like, those eyes on him whilst Renji was inside him. Would he be so lucky, to be able to press himself into that hot, tight.....

"Fuckkkk," Renji groaned, trying to keep his voice down as his hips automatically canted upwards into his own hand. His movements stuttered as he spilled across his stomach. There was a hitched breath and jerk from next to him, and he hazily turned his head to watch Kuchiki-sama's eyelids flutter and shoulders slump, sated.

Renji took a moment to catch his breath before getting up to find a rag to clean up. He handed it to Kuchiki-sama first, and didn't flinch when the lord folded it primly and handed it back. There was still a soft heat in those grey eyes, quietly watching him wipe down his abs. "Isn't that better?" Renji smiled, flopping back down on his bed.  
"I'm not sure."  
"I'll have to do it again to persuade you."

There was a huff that Renji interpreted as laughter. "You are certainly a man of action, Renji," Kuchiki-sama said. "Yeah...not sure that's a good thing, considering I just convinced you to join in on debauching a place of worship..." Renji mused.

*

The weak morning light woke Byakuya early, as it always did. He did not emerge from his blankets immediately, because the moment he had rolled over he had seen Renji.

The deep red hair was not muted by the cold winter sunshine, it burned just as it had under the midday sun in summer. Renji's strong jaw was turned away from him, outlined against the plain paper screens. The long lines of the bodyguard's limbs weren't obscured by the blankets, he was almost too big to be contained by them. Byakuya realised how much he wanted to touch. It was not just because of Renji's shameless _talking_. He recognised now that he had been persuaded. It had not quite been a seduction, but from the moment they entered this room, Byakuya had been reeled in.

In his sleepy morning musings, looking at Renji, it struck Byakuya that he had not spent so much time in one person's company for a long time. These past few months he had not needed or wished to spend time with anyone else. They were on their way to the new capital of Japan, where Byakuya knew he would have to make the biggest compromises of his life. However he also hoped that when they were done, and left Edo, or Tokyo as they were now calling it, Renji would be at his side. He couldn't imagine Renji not being there.

Taking the blankets with him, Byakuya leaned over the sword barrier Renji had placed between them the night before. His hands were sleep-warmed, tracing Renji's jaw to wake him. Warm brown eyes cracked open at the touch and regarded him blearily. Then calloused fingers moved to tug playfully on the ends of Byakuya's hair where it hung between them. "Good morning, Kuchiki-sama" Renji said. Byakuya's hands traced their way down Renji's neck. "You should probably call me by my first name," he said, watching the younger man's eyebrows twitch up in surprise.

"Byakuya."

It was a beautiful sound. It pulled Byakuya forward, summoned him. He grazed a tentative kiss over the corner of Renji's mouth, returning with tingling lips. He looked into Renji's eyes and found they were still sleepy, but he felt smug thinking that perhaps dazed for another reason now, too. Then the fingers tangled in Byakuya's hair tightened, gently pulled him back down, and he went willingly.

There were several soft, lingering kisses, where Renji seemed happy to just be kissed. Then his tongue flicked mischievously against Byakuya's top lip, and when he opened his mouth in surprise Renji was there, licking and kissing him hard. Byakuya felt himself melt into it, uncaring of the morning breath or the sounds of people moving around outside or that there was a literal sword digging into his hip. He had forgotten what it was like to be wanted, and the way Renji expressed _want_ was somehow unfamiliar. His whole body was vibrating with the sensation, radiating outwards from where they kissed. Renji held him so firmly in place against his chest. He moaned, curling his fingers tight into the bodyguard's robes.

They broke apart with a last, slow press of lips. Renji smiled up at him and muttered hoarsely "So I'm guessing I shouldn't do that in public?"  
"A cruel fate. Will you survive?"  
"As long as I can do it in private...?"  
"You may consider it your duty, to kiss me in private."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that didn't disappoint - more spice to come I promise. This is looking like it might be about 10 chapters overall depending on how far I want to take it through the history.
> 
> History Notes
> 
> Edo was renamed Tokyo around 1868/1869, when it was capture by the Imperial forces. 
> 
> I've accelerated the timeline a bit - it was actually the year after the story is set that the government started to take Daimyo's titles from them, but before this they did abolish the 'han' system, which changed the status of samurai so they were part of 'regular' society. 
> 
> The tragedy mentioned at Aizu castle is about the Byakkotai (white tiger) unit, which was meant to be a reserve unit made up of teenage samurai. You can read about it [here](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Byakkotai).


	7. Separate ideals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If he had been a lesser man, Byakuya might have shouted or railed against it. He didn't even pinch his nose or frown at the indignity of being patronised. He held his composure rather well, all things considered. Until he slammed the door of their guest quarters open. The maids scattered out of the room in a flurry of apologies, leaving him alone. 
> 
> Alone with Renji. 
> 
> *
> 
> Renji and Byakuya reach Edo and meet with a rather infuriating government official.

### November, 1868

The government official wore the sort of knowing smile that Renji usually dismissed with a sharp application of fist to jawbone. Byakuya, it appeared, had more patience. Aizen Sosuke had introduced himself, adjusting his high-collared western suit and sitting himself behind a painfully _european_ tall desk on a _chair_. He waved a hand vaguely for them to be seated too, but the gesture carried a sense of resignation, Renji felt. _You will look out of place, sat on chairs at my desk, wearing your swords and topknots, but if you must._

Renji dutifully stood two paces behind Byakuya and did not take a seat. There had been nowhere to take their shoes off at the door, and the feeling of plush carpeting under his sandals was somehow nauseating. They were served tea in china mugs with _saucers_ , accompanied by milk and lemon. Byakuya's eyes slid over the offerings and finally used a set of silver tongs to drop a slice of lemon into the black tea in front of him. Renji's tea went cold on the desk.

"You've had a long trip. The emperor is gratified that you've taken the time to visit," Aizen said, undoing the bottom button of his jacket and relaxing into the high-backed seat, hands in his lap. Aizen was unarmed as far as Renji could see, but he seemed relaxed and unthreatened by the five katana staring at him over the desk. That made Renji nervous in turn, somehow. Was there a revolver, secreted in Aizen's lap? It was easy to imagine the man using a gun; a tool that required no skill to master before you could take a life.

"I serve the emperor, as did my father and grandfather," Byakuya replied.  
"Good. Good. I'm glad you are loyal to what we are trying to accomplish, Kuchiki-san," Aizen smiled. Renji twitched minutely at the informality. _Slimy bureaucrat._ Aizen did not miss the movement. "Will your companion not sit and join us?"  
"Abarai is my protection, he's not here to drink tea," Byakuya said, and the clink of his cup as it was set down in the saucer lent a sort of finality to the statement. It stung, hearing it said like that, and Renji wasn't quite sure whether it was truth, or just Byakuya matching Aizen's posturing. He breathed deep and let it go.  
"Ah, ah. Quite alright, Abarai-kun," Aizen smiled again.

"The emperor is aiming to unite Japan," Byakuya said, reverting back to the statement-question pattern that Renji was familiar with "Indeed! Modernise, provide more freedom for its people. The rest of the world is laughing at us, with our swords and spears and feudal squabbles," Aizen said, all with grand gestures and warm smiles. "So we will make Japan better. Your people and your lands will flourish with more help from government. There will be a place for everyone to be useful. There are opportunities to lead and be at the forefront of change." Byakuya appeared to be considering, waiting to hear the full sales pitch. Renji noticed that he did not drink his tea past the first sip.

"Others have already agreed," Byakuya said at last. Aizen nodded, face set in respectful modesty. "Satsuma and Choshu are very honourable, loyal provinces. They have renounced their titles as Daimyo and accepted the emperor's generosity."

Renji tried not to scoff. Satsuma and Choshu, amongst the other southern provinces, were the instigators of this civil war. They had no choice but to take the good with the bad. They had to give their power back to the emperor they had put on the throne. And the paper pushers that came with him. "The emperor's generosity," Byakuya said flatly.  
"Yes yes, your estates will still be yours of course. In fact you will be governor of your lands when this comes into place. Choose your subordinates, run things however you like! We simply ask that you split your profits with the government, and maintain certain standards..."

Renji might have imagined the subtle flicker in his direction. He ignored it, standing straighter.

"Kanazawa would not be mine to give to my family, after me," Byakuya said, guessing at the terms. "No, it wouldn't. We are trying to avoid that sort of personal politics, and put the country first. I'm sure you understand. The government will ensure that samurai are still paid their stipends, so you don't have to worry about it. You can keep your property and spend your 10% share of Kanazawa's profits however you wish, without the pressure of keeping so many people fed, paid, safe..."

The bottom fell out of Renji's stomach. When this happened...because it was surely a when, not an if...he would be beholden not to his lord, but to the government _paying him wages_. The lands that Byakuya had cultivated and protected for generations would be a financial asset. A meagre 10% of the profits would go to the Kuchiki family, who would only get a minor say in what happened in their homelands. Once Byakuya was dead, they would get no say at all.

"It is no hardship, to watch over my lands and my people," Byakuya said.  
"Kuchiki-san takes his duties very seriously."

There was no give and take. It was not negotiation.

"I want to understand the details, please send me the particulars to read over," Byakuya said, standing. Aizen obviously hadn't expected such a hasty departure, but he stood too and went to shake Byakuya's hand. The disgust was clear on Byakuya's face. Instead, the two samurai bowed and swept from the room, leaving the paper-pusher behind.

*

If he had been a lesser man, Byakuya might have shouted or railed against it. He didn't even pinch his nose or frown at the indignity of being patronised. He strode purposefully through the government compound and across the wide courtyards. He held his composure rather well, all things considered. Until he slammed the door of their guest quarters open. The frame rattled, door snapping against the end of the rails. The maids scattered out of the room in a flurry of apologies, leaving him alone.

Alone with Renji.

The door had just barely closed when he crossed the room, wrapped his fingers in the front of Renji's kimono and pulled. He just registered the surprise in the redhead's eyes as he pressed their mouths together roughly. Renji stood up to his full height, making Byakuya crane his neck to keep their mouths slanted across each other. "Byakuya," Renji whispered, practically into his mouth, following the words with his tongue. It was just as good as he'd remembered, slick and hot, their chests pressing together. Renji's hands came up to press against his neck, tilting his head to get the angle just as he wanted it, shamelessly taking control of the kiss Byakuya had started.

Byakuya's head was so fuzzy from being kissed that he found it difficult to argue when Renji pulled back. "Is this how we're gonna work out your frustration?" Reni asked. Another kiss. "Not that I'm complaining..." he said, dipping back down to lick the corner of Byakuya's mouth, then kiss his jaw, then his neck just below the ear. Byakuya's eyes fluttered closed, hands running over Renji's chest to squeeze at shoulder muscles encouragingly.

"That bastard," Renji snarled, hands suddenly wrapped around Byakuya's thighs, lifting him bodily and pressing him back into the wall further into the room. There were teeth on his neck and Byakuya's heart thumped at the aggression. Renji demanded his attention, sucking a bruise into his throat, licking up over his adam's apple and meeting lips again. Byakuya moaned around the tongue fucking into his mouth, then again as Renji rolled his hips forward.

The hands under his thighs were hot brands on his skin, but the line of Renji's arousal burnt hotter, rubbing at the crease between his thigh and hip. "I wanted to draw my sword right there in his office, cut him open," Renji muttered. It was probably the possessiveness that sent that thrill of arousal through his groin, Byakuya told himself.

"I'm not interested in that sword right now, Abarai," Byakuya panted back, squeezing his thighs tight around Renji's waist. He was pressed back harder into the wall for a second as Renji let go of him to slither a hand through the gap in the side of Byakuya's hakama. Then a warm hand was squeezing his cock through his fundoshi. Trapped between the wall and Renji's heat, he was suddenly short on breath. "Don't get all formal on me now, Byakuya," Renji muttered, close to his ear, nose buried in dark hair.

 _This was exactly what I wanted,_ he thought, _when Renji grinned so lewdly at me in the archery range._ Renji's hands managed to loosen his underwear entirely and finally finally, there was a confidant grip encircling his erection, tugging purposefully, making him shudder and grasp at Renji's shoulders. "You're so much better than them," Renji muttered, swallowing Byakuya's moans in open mouthed kisses. "You're so fucking gorgeous."

There was no space in between them to reciprocate, so Byakuya let his head fall back with a thud against the wall and closed his eyes with a sigh. Renji's hips steadily rocked into him in time with the hand wrapped round his dick. The movements were purposeful, steady, unrelenting. He lost himself in it, dizzy with the fact that he knew his bodyguard was watching every facial expression, drinking it in. It was so Renji, the way he was pulling breathy moans from his throat, building the fire in his belly, kissing him with such devotion. His legs were trembling, itching to push up into Renji's hand. "I want to fuck you so badly," Renji groaned. Byakuya's breath hitched and he vaguely heard himself mumbling yes, next time, yes, fuck me. Then the pleasure crested and he shuddered, coming all over the inside of his clothes with a gasp.

When he opened his eyes, Renji was licking his hand clean. Byakuya pulled him into a kiss just to taste himself in Renji's mouth. Unhooking one leg and touching back down on the floor, he slipped both hands into either side of Renji's hakama to untie his fundoshi. Renji hissed, closing his eyes at the first, experimental touch. Renji was big, Byakuya realised, imaging what he would look like naked, how much he would stretch Byakuya open. Next time he really would have to get Renji out of his clothes, when they could take their time.

He slipped a hand inside his own hakama to wet his hand with his own spend, and then wrapped it back, slick, around Renji. That earned him a completely enthralled moan. Renji was still crowding him into the wall, leaning against his forearms, but he'd buried his head into Byakuya's shoulder, breath hot against his neck. He tried to match the way Renji had touched him, but he couldn't help teasing a little at first, using his long deft fingers to touch lightly. He wrapped the other hand around Renji's arse, encouraged him to thrust back against him, join in. Then Byakuya set a firm pace, even though the fabric of Renji's hakama was chafing against his wrist as he worked his length, and the heat rolling of Renji was making sweat bead at his temples.

A spark of inspiration made him start talking, pitching his voice low, whispering right into Renji's ear. "Who knew you were such an impressive specimen, Renji..." he said. Renji moaned. "You'll have to prepare me very well. Or perhaps I should take charge? Do you like being fucked, too, Renji?"

Renji's hips stuttered, cock twitching in Byakuya's hand. There was a litany of swearwords being mouthed into his shoulder, Byakuya could just hear them amongst calls of his own name. "You'll have to tell me how you like it," he continues. "Will you scream my name?"

There was a strangled gasp as Renji twitched, collapsing into him, and a warm rush of fluid smeared across Byakuya's knuckles. He held them close together with his free hand, waiting for Renji's breathing to settle.

It took a few moments before the redhead stood up straight again, but he immediately swayed forward to press kisses across Byakuya's cheekbone. "You almost gave me a heart attack, talking like that. Didn't know you had it in you," Renji huffed, eyes still dazed.  
"Nor did I. But the effect is quite intoxicating," he smirked.  
"Yeah yeah, gloating isn't a good look on you."  
"Oh I assure you it is."

Renji huffed again, then winced as he moved, evidently feeling how wet the inside of trousers were. "Do you think the maids left us any hot water?" he asked.  
"Knowing our luck?" Byakuya mused.

*

It was later, when they were much cleaner, before Renji dared to ask. He was absently swirling tea dregs around his mug, watching Byakuya do his best impression of meditating whilst actually just dozing in his seat. "Do you want to talk about it?" he said. There was a suspiciously long pause before Byakuya responded. "About what?"  
"About what they're making you do," Renji clarified.  
"I have no choice, it's pointless to dwell on it."

"But...you asked to see the details..." Renji frowned, putting his cup down at last.  
"Now why would I have done that..." Byakuya drawled.

Renji sighed, thunking his head against the table in realisation. He had thought that Byakuya had intended to negotiate or push. He was vaguely disappointed that Byakuya was actually just wasting the man's time to be petty. "Look, if you want to play around with that smarmy bastard, just tell me. I could have helped." Byakuya's eyes finally opened from his faux rumination to observe Renji. The gaze was warm, but invasive. "Your offer of assistance is greatly appreciated. Believe me I shall let you know if I need your inimitable brand of peturbation."

"Were you playing when you told Aizen I was just your protection?" Renji asked. It burst out before he could stop it, and Byakuya didn't seem to surprised at his bluntness. "Are you really asking that. Or are you asking what this is, between us?" Byakuya replied.  
"Both....mostly the second one..." Renji admitted with a sigh. Of course he'd been transparent.

Byakuya closed his eyes as if going back to meditating. Just as Renji was about to get affronted, the lord spoke. "I have not let anyone touch me in five years. You are my bodyguard. And something more."

Something more. Something more was a good start, Renji thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a lazy choice with chosing an appropriate 'villian', I know! He's only appearing once more. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the smut to make up for it!
> 
> History and Language Notes
> 
> The government's end game in the Meiji restoration was to centralise everything rather than letting Daimyo like Byakuya form little kingdom's of their own. Renji would have originally been paid by Byakuya, and now he's going to be paid by the government. Which is a very different, scary, big-world prospect. 
> 
> Satsuma and Choshu provinces are southern provinces that were loyal to the emperor and helped him overthrow the shogun in the first place. Overall this ended poorly for them...
> 
> Aizen and his attitude: Aizen is making a point of embracing Western ideals - suits, black tea rather than green etc. His attitude is also a product of Japan's new stance of west=good, japanese traditions=bad. More on this next time.


	8. Samurai ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their secret is wrested from them, as are Byakuya's lands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please bear in mind the new tags :) 
> 
> This has taken a while, partly because the next chapter is LONG and this chapter was a thing that had to happen to move the story along. Hope you enjoy.

### December, 1868

Something about their meeting with Aizen had been bothering Renji. The official so obviously hated the very idea of samurai; their clothes, their traditions, their entire way of life. Renji couldn't shake the feeling that it was very bad news, having a man like Aizen in charge of making decisions about his future.

It wasn't until their next encounter that Renji understood the full picture.

Two days after Byakuya had received a thick paper package detailing the emperor's plans, they spied a pair of familiar faces coming across the compound towards them. Ukitake's dignified white hair was unmistakeable amongst the crowd, and he was daintily holding one of Kyoraku's trailling sleeves. _Cute_ , Renji smiled. Byakuya was apparently in the mood to socialise, immediately making a path to intercept them. Renji was pleased by this. Despite blowing off a bit of...ahem...steam, his lord was still generally quieter than usual thanks to Aizen's special delivery.

"Byakuya-sama," Ukitake trilled, his warmest smile fanning out in greeting. Byakuya bowed in response, Renji bowed deeper. "And his beautiful bodyguard. What a fortuitous meeting!" Kyoraku drawled, with his usual lazy smirk.

The older couple had been easily persuaded into tea and sweet mochi in Byakuya's rooms. Out of habit, Renji plopped straight down next to Byakuya at the table, and quickly realised his mistake. Byakuya froze for a moment, flicking a glance at him. This only served to emphasise the whole situation and Renji groaned internally. _Why didn't I sit in the corner like I should have?_ The grin that slunk across Kyoraku's face seemed exceedingly smug. Renji sat up straighter in his seiza, waiting for the comment. But Ukitake once again proved himself the picture of perfect manners. "How do you find Tokyo? Was your journey alright?"  
"Acceptable," Byakuya said, but he was practically glaring at Kyouraku, daring him to say something.  
"It rained a lot...I swear I could have gone pearl diving in the puddles outside Matsumoto," Renji interjected, trying to lighten the mood. Ukitake obliged him with a tinkling laugh.  
"You'll have an equally damp journey back to Kanazawa, no doubt..." Kyoraku said.  
"There's other things to worry about first," Byakuya said darkly.

"Ah...yes.." Ukitake muttered, gaze falling to his lap in embarrassment over being tangentially involved in the whole affair. Kyouraku helped himself to mochi without a care in the world. _Quite a pair,_ Renji thought. "Even after such a brief stay, I can't say much for the emperor's choice of bureaucrats," Byakuya said. Kyouraku hummed in agreement around his mouthful. Renji followed suit, stuffing his face with mochi to avoid having to give his very impolite opinion on the matter. Some things were better left to people who possessed _tact._

"Is it Ichimaru or Aizen?" Kyoraku asked at length, when Ukitake let the silence stretch.  
"Aizen," Byakuya said, shoulders twitching as if shaking off the memory of it all. Ukitake was now a delicate shade of green, but started "...he is unsuited to dealing with Daimyo, I agree...although he is very meticulous in his work..." His voice lost strength as he went on speaking. "Has Jyushiro-sama signed over his lands?" Byakuya asked.

The room was unnaturally still as Ukitake gave a stiff nod. "Last month," Kyouraku said, one giant hand gently rubbing Ukitake's back. Renji thought how perceptive and soft those usually lazy eyes watched Ukitake, until the older man seemed to come back to himself a little. Byakuya exhaled sharply and, in an incredible display of mercy, all things considered, decided against further comment on the subject. "How is Rukia?"

Their guests visibly relaxed and Ukitake's smile unpacked itself again. "She is well. Missing her best friend," he said with a glance at Renji, who felt his cheeks flush a little at the attention. He poured more tea into Byakuya's cup so he didn't have to look up. He knew Kyouraku was watching this display of familiarity intently, and went to put mochi on Byakuya's plate all the same.

"Are you not missing Rukia, Abarai-san?" Kyouraku teased.  
"I'm sure I'll see her again soon. I've been busy," Renji mumbled and glanced at Byakuya, willing him to help change the topic of conversation again, but no help was forthcoming. He remembered all too suddenly that they still had a lot to learn about each other. Like how to recognise when Renji was uncomfortable. Although he thought he was being quite obvious, to be honest.

"Busy, hmmm?" Kyoraku pondered.  
"Indeed. I owe Renji my life twice over, now," Byakuya said, quite unexpectedly.

Bright pride and warmth blossomed in Renji's chest, and he looked up to find such a warm expression on Byakuya's face that he flushed all over again. "I see, I see, is that what has been going on," Kyoraku hummed, as if weighing up a great matter. Soon enough, Ukitake was busy fussing over the assassination attempt at Toyama-jo, and everything seemed a bit more settled. It was familiar ground, at least, retelling the story of that night. _With one minor omission,_ Renji thought. But something told him that Ukitake and Kyouraku had read between the lines somehow. After all, he way that Byakuya was fiddling with his teacup spoke volumes.

"You two are well-matched, I think," Ukitake smiled.  
"Mmm. Like Benkei and Yoshitsune," Kyouraku chuckled, jumping up on his knees to take a wild kabuki stance. Byakuya huffed at the comparison and Renji laughed. "I'm not stupid enough to think I can take Kuchiki-sama in a fight, that's not how this started."  
"Indeed. You already categorically proved you could not take me in a fight," Byakuya smirked, quite out of character in his teasing.  
"Hey I was just distracted that first time!" Renji protested.  
"That does not explain why you are yet to win."  
"We're only sparring, Byaku-" he snapped his mouth shut abruptly. Everyone was looking at him. There was a knowing glint in Kyouraku's eye.

Without another word he bowed and left the room.

*

Truthfully Byakuya had known they were sunk from the moment Renji sat down, but he still winced as Renji said his first name.

The silence hung for a few seconds after Renji had taken flight. When he looked up, Ukitake was beaming at him. "You mustn't be angry with him, Byakuya-sama," he said gently. "We old men are renowned for meddling, after all."  
"And we're exceptionally good at wheedling out secrets," Kyouraku laughed.  
"I am not angry," Byakuya replied. It was the truth. Unfortunately it didn't seem to end the conversation.

Really, he didn't want to talk about relationships with Jyushiro - the man who had had a torrid affair with his father. Admittedly Byakuya hadn't been old enough to really remember said affair. It had been the sort of _legendary_ romance that young ladies recount with dramatic sighs and starry eyes. He thought briefly of how wild his own teenage romance had been, all those years ago, but quickly stamped it out. There was no point thinking of that person right now either.

"Is this...new?" Ukitake asked, and Byakuya tried not to show even the minutest expression in response. Kyouraku was positively gleeful at these revelations, and Byakuya wouldn't give him the pleasure of further ammunition. "Yes. But carefully considered," he answered at last. It was the best he could do to reassure without encouraging further enquiries as to his health and happiness.  
"I am happy for you. Rukia will be too," Jyushiro said.  
"I will tell her about it," Byakuya said firmly. It came out a bit too quickly and, he thought, a little panicked.  
"We wouldn't steal your thunder," Kyouraku said solemnly, hand on heart.

Byakuya wasn't quite sure whether he believed them.

*

All in all this exchange just made him more nervous and off-kilter when they had to see Aizen the next day. He woke up feeling nauseous, only managing plain rice and green tea for breakfast, whilst Renji seemed relaxed enough to gorge on everything else.

His bodyguard - Infatuation? Crush? Lover? - had only returned once Ukitake and Kyouraku had gone. Renji had bowed his forehead right to the floor in apology and Byakuya, slightly dumbstruck at the show of contrition, left him there longer than he intended. Renji seemed to take this reaction badly, for some reason, and they hadn't really spoken much since. He didn't have time to worry about it, so he put it from his mind.

Still, when they made their way to meet Aizen and sign away Byakuya's livelihood, Renji was there; reassuring soft steps just a heartbeat behind his own.

This time Byakuya did not bow when he entered Aizen's office. He did not shake hands. He sat straight down in the chair, taking a wide stance, and helped himself immediately to tea with lemon. He drank it too hot, burning his tongue. It served as an adequate distraction whilst Aizen prattled on at him. The insufferable man proceeded to relay entire parts of the documents that Byakuya had _already read_. He was itching to just sign and leave. He wanted to go home - to Kanazawa and his own bed, not to some soulless room in a government building. The stubborn part of him refused to hurry Aizen along. It was a kind of bravery, perhaps. Renji would probably think so.

The signing itself was painless, for something that could be objectively considered difficult. His neat signature was almost indistinguishable from the regimented calligraphy of the contract. Then Aizen started to make _small talk_. Byakuya felt sick all over again. This man had the audacity to gossip over the wet ink that represented his entire way of life.

"I hear that Kuchiki-san is close friends with Ukitake-san and his pet," the bureaucrat sneered.  
"Ukitake-sama has long been close friends with my family," Byakuya said, eyes narrowed.  
"Oh yes, I'm aware." Byakuya steeled himself at that familiar insinuation. "I'm sure you'll see more of them out in the countryside from now on. Kyouraku's unwholesome plays and their behaviour with each other is better left hidden. We're here trying to build a modern society and there they are, two grown men fawning over each other," Aizen said, lip curling in disgust.

There was the minutest shift in the corner of Byakuya's eye, Renji's fist clenching where he stood. Byakuya rose to leave, but Aizen had seen it and broke out in mocking laughter. "Maybe you should look to your own house, Kuchiki-san."

"We're leaving, Abarai," he muttered.

By the time they were shut away in their rooms again Byakuya only felt tired. The anger had seeped from him, replaced by a stinging behind in his eyes and a scratching at his throat.

"Kuchiki-sama," Renji said, quietly, still hovering at the door.  
"You don't need to call me that, Renji. We are the same now, you and I," he sighed.  
"I'm still your bodyguard," Renji said, some of the anger still flickering behind his eyes.

Byakuya didn't pull away when Renji knelt behind him, bracketing Byakuya's hips with his thighs. He draped himself across Byakuya's back. He was heavy, but his hands were warm where they wrapped around his middle. "And something more?" Renji whispered, burying his face in Byakuya's hair, suddenly vulnerable. He thought about what this was and the comfort crawling through him from every place Renji touched him.

".....lover?" Byakuya asked, quietly.

There was a faint chuckle. "Sounds good," Renji said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be some time skips as the story goes on, in order to keep us with the social/historical action. 
> 
> History and Language Notes  
> There are and potentially always will be homophobic people, even in Japan at a time when homosexual relationships were an observed "tradition", but the shift towards Western values and ideals in this particular period does validate and enable homophobic behaviour. Hence my inclusion of it in the story, and there will be more to come given the real historical events. I hope that doesn't send people running.
> 
> Yoshitsune and Benkei - Two famous real historical characters from the Genpei wars. Yoshitsune was the rebellious younger brother of one of Japan's early shoguns. He was THE original bishi, and went around with his best bro Benkei - a warrior monk. They teamed up because Yoshitsune was the first person to ever beat Benkei in a fight. It's Japanese so it's inevitably a tragic story. There's several very famous plays written about them, which is why Kyoraku would of course know. The pose he's pulling in the scene is the 'roppo' or six step pose that Benkei performs in the kabuki play Kanjincho.


	9. Silk and sinew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go home. Renji knocks some sense into his beloved, then kisses some sense into him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one. I have officially run out of buffer, so I apologise if the next update takes a bit longer. 
> 
> Thanks so much for all the love so far! I hope you enjoy. It's a touch romantic, if I do say so myself.

### December, 1868

It was a statement of rebellion. Renji whistled appreciatively through his teeth as he surveyed the outfit laid out on the tatami. They were going home, and Byakuya was determined to leave Tokyo in style. By which he meant _fully armoured and carrying sharp blades whilst riding horseback through the streets of the capital city, consequences be damned_. The familiar deep blue armour had miraculously appeared from out of the baggage somewhere, along with bundles of folded silk. Renji felt slightly sappy reminiscing, but it was criminal, really, to not take a moment to appreciate the memory of Kuchiki Byakuya sat in the middle of a battlefield, bloody drying across the knuckles of his gauntlets as defeated samurai came forward one by one to kneel before him. Renji may have thought he was a cold, cruel man back then, but he had still recognised the sense of style.

"You will dress me," Byakuya said. It was perhaps meant to be a request, but it wasn't one that Renji would refuse. There was an a brief moment of awkwardness when the two servants in the room realised their lord was talking to Renji. He saw them glance at each other, and make a silent decision to stay and help. One of the young men turned to polishing the chest piece whilst the other started to hand Renji items of clothing in order.

It was a privilege, to be the person that wrapped Byakuya up in his armour. Renji had done this for others, and others had done this for him, without there being any special meaning or significance. _However_. It felt excruciatingly intimate, considering their recent activities in this very room, to gently arrange Byakuya's limbs and strap him into his battle gear. He fussed over the folds of the hakama and tied the leg guards onto his shins. He worked Byakuya's arms into the long sleeves and tied them snugly across his chest. The knots were clumsy, but Byakuya's deft fingers soon put them to rights. Being comfortable usually meant making small adjustments as pieces were tied in place, so Renji didn't take offence. Byakuya's hands occasionally came to grip Renji's shoulders for balance, or brush his hands out of the way to tie something himself. Renji tried not to meet Byakuya's eyes, in case the warmth he felt pooling in his belly was returned in kind.

They dressed Byakuya together from bottom to top, left to right, as was proper, until there was only the helmet and swords left. To his disappointment, the servants stepped in to sort Byakuya's hair, so Renji knelt to strap on the katana instead. He had to reach right around the other man to wrap the long strip of white cloth around his waist, crossing it over the katana and tying it off again. Another, longer curved blade designed for horseback was loosely tied on a long braid below. He found he didn't mind dutifully kneeling there in front of Byakuya, and pondered the concept of doing it off duty.

When they were done, Renji automatically bowed. Byakuya looked older, standing there in a confident stance. His shoulders looked wider where they were draped with an embroidered jacket.

Renji briefly worried about being under-dressed, then laughed at himself. He wore open-backed armour, designed to shame those that would be coward enough to attack him from behind to take advantage of the weakness. It was intentionally intimidating; he had often been told how much it suited him.

The reaction to fifty men, armed to the teeth, riding three a breast through the muddy streets of Tokyo was about as you'd anticipate. Merchants bowed low. Men in suits looked amused and anxious in equal measure. Women whispered behind their sleeves at each other. Jinrikusha skittered out of their way down side streets. The bamboo screens of the palanquins twitched as their passengers peeked out at the passing army. The streets were so narrow that they rode with knees touching, the armour over their thighs jangling against each other until they left the city proper.

When they reached a temple that evening, the blue suit was wrapped in cloth and secreted away again. _We probably will not ever ride out like this again_ Renji thought, thinking of government forces levelling guns against a tide of coloured armour. Suddenly it felt like they were saying goodbye to something. Byakuya seemed to feel the same.

"I think you should get your photograph taken," Renji said suddenly over the meagre dinner the monks could spare. Byakuya paused in serving out vegetables between their two bowls - it was a soft gesture that Renji would never get bored of. "In your armour, I mean," he clarified.  
"Why?"  
"It's just....I think you should make a record of it. I can't see many excuses for wearing it after all this. But it's part of you."  
"It seems conceited to take a photograph."  
"I'm not saying you need to hang it over the gateway....I just mean, this feels like something to remember."  
"I do not want to remember."  
"Well I don't want to remember this - that prick and everything else in Edo. Or Tokyo..whatever. This is all shit," Renji sighed. "Women and children died in Aizu. I know good people that might be dead now. But it was pretty spectacular, before. Seeing you in that armour reminded me what it was like."  
"What it was like when I was your lord?"  
"You - That's not - " Renji stammered, struggling as usual to get his words out.

He sat back from the food to try and collect his thoughts, but Byakuya rose from the table and went to bed. Renji didn't try and follow. He wanted to say that Byakuya still was his lord, but somehow that wasn't quite the right sentiment. Renji knew the fierce loyalty and desire to protect Byakuya wasn't just stringent adherence to the laws of bushido anymore. He loved him - loved being the only one that got to see him unguarded, the only one that seemed to understand his moods, the one that was trusted. The routines they had together. This wasn't the right time to say that, though, when Byakuya was still tangled up on everything that he'd lost.

The journey back was just as wet and miserable as Ukitake had predicted, and this time Renji had to contend with extra complications. Byakuya took to disappearing after meals, or riding ahead of the line. Renji couldn't complain given his own behaviour on their outward journey, and nobody else had the courage to go searching for Byakuya or follow when he spurred his horse. Those stormy grey eyes were cold as ice when they turned on anyone other than Renji (for whom they heated, but with equal deadliness, like a wildfire). They hadn't shared a kind word or civil conversation in at least a week, so by the time they reached Kanazawa Renji felt like he'd been shut out in the cold. Wading through the first snowfall of the year only cemented his dejectedness.

It was bruising, to be tossed between soft, slow kisses bathed in weak morning light in the temple, and the searing heat as they rutted against each other, seeking comfort in a strange city. In the quieter moments of their journey Renji felt he only had himself to blame. As he had predicted in Toyama, it was painful to balance being Byakuya's bodyguard in public and so much more in the private space of their hearts. Lovers.

He gladly left Byakuya's safety to Rikichi and Hiroyuki when they finally reached the Kuchiki mansion. The next morning, after a hot bath and good night's sleep, he still felt unprepared to deal with Byakuya, but at least they were on familiar ground now.

*

Makoto was not the person that Byakuya wanted to see. But Renji had made himself scarce since they returned. In truth Byakuya wasn't sure he wanted to see Renji either.

"Kuchiki-sama should know that nothing has changed since you left for Toyama. There is nothing of significance to report. I'm assuming that Kuchiki-sama will be renewing his usual routine for the time being?" Makoto said with a bow.

_Nothing has changed. What a farce._

"You are not required to call me that. You may leave if you wish, go wherever you want. I'm sure you know the situation," Byakuya said, keeping control of his voice as he threw the words over his shoulder. His eyes remained trained on the garden outside his suite where the snow was coming down in thick, fluffy clumps to settle on the raked gravel. He had ordered the servants to leave the doors open to air the room. It had been unused for almost two months, growing stale and musty. The cold air soothed his anger a little, too, even if it sent the servants scurrying away, fingers red and noses running.

"That will not be necessary, Kuchiki-sama," Makoto continued with his usual stubborn attitude, and Byakuya felt rage seep into his gut. "Get out," he hissed. Makoto retreated in measured, calm footsteps. He heard him step out into the hallway, and then a faint, rushed conversation that he couldn't make out.

Heavy, confident footsteps returned, back up the stairs, opening his doors without even an excuse me. Only Renji would dare. He span, ready to spit fire at the interruption, but instinctively flinched to catch something that the redhead had thrown at his head. It slapped, heavy against his palm. He looked down and found he was holding a wooden practice sword.

Renji was looming the doorway, holding a bokken of his own. He was wearing a padded haori jacket over his clothes and an expression that threatened to bring down an avalanche. Snow clung to his hair and shoulders, and his cheeks were flushed like he'd already been out stalking the grounds. "Come on," was all the redhead said, with a jerk of his head. Byakuya found he didn't have an easy retort or excuse.

He was led to a tall, wide veranda at the back of the estate, just high enough for them to swing swords. Renji wandered to one end and took a low guard stance. "Come at me," he said simply. Byakuya felt too cold now he was outside with just his kimono and hakama on. _At least the exercise will warm me up_ , he groused. "You think you can win, now that we are on equal footing?" he seethed.  
"I don't know about winning or losing. I'm just suggesting we spar," Renji said, low and sure of himself. Byakuya huffed his annoyance, a cold stream of breath crystalizing in the morning air.

Forcing himself to movement was like shedding weight, it dislodged at the first heavy smack of Renji's bokken against his. The vibration jarred his wrist, making him retreat. Then they met quickly, over and over in short bouts of violence. Renji's face was full of concentration and wreathed in the white clouds of his breath. His footwork was grounded today, Byakuya thought. Renji's arms were always strong but now they were more purposeful. He admired the way that Renji's fingers flexed just so around the bokken, watched the sword tip drop and -

The blade was under his chin before he'd registered movement, too caught up in Renji.

Far from looking pleased, the redhead kept walking forward towards him, the bokken resting lightly at first on Byakuya's shoulder, then suddenly pressing down across his chest as Renji stepped into his personal space. "You're meant to hit me," the redhead muttered. Byakuya could have snarled at the comment, but he withdrew.

But no matter what he did, he couldn't hit Renji. They came to blows and they drew, or Byakuya conceded defeat. Slowly he came back to himself, finding rhythm in their motions, but Renji seemed just as cold, insistent that they continue. The redhead knocked his sword impatiently against the floor between fights. He was goading him, Byakuya was sure. He lost again and decided he refused to be goaded.

"That is enough Renji," he said, looking down where Renji's bokken was delicately and fatally tucked against his own ribs. "Is it?" the redhead asked, withdrawing. "Are you done taking it out on all of us now?" Byakuya didn't pretend to not understand, but resented being drawn into conversation all the same. "Is that what this is about?" he asked after a long pause. He once again had to remind himself that relationships required communication. Irritating though it was.

"Damn right it is," Renji muttered, bokken twitching in his grip."Almost two weeks, you had us all scrabbling around after you like idiots, freezing our asses off, trying to get you home without some sort of major fucking incident." Byakuya still felt the vestiges of his bad mood clinging stubbornly around his shoulders. He found a particularly interesting stretch of wall to examine and resisted peeking at Renji's expression.

"I can leave you alone if you'd prefer. I'll go back to just being your bodyguard. Whatever you want. But I thought this might help," Renji said as he stepped up next to Byakuya at the edge of the walkway. The redhead was suddenly standing straight and calm. _Ah. Here is the real hurt_ ,Byakuya thought.

He took a steadying breath and told himself that it was enough. Enough of his mother's sharp temperament. Enough anger over a situation that he couldn't control. It is done.

"It did help, and I do not want to be left alone," Byakuya conceded again. This sort of fight was somehow easier to concede than a real duel, especially when Renji's face showed so much concern. "Generally, 'lovers' are not limited to a defined geographic area," Byakuya offered. "We can be lovers in Kanazawa as well as Edo, can we not?"

The effect was immediate. Renji's cold nose was pressed against his temple, arms around his shoulders. It was a sort of shivering, boneless comfort that he didn't realise he'd missed. Just like he hadn't realised how cold he was until Renji opened the front of his haori and wrapped Byakuya up into it against his chest. He stayed silent until his breath was warm and clammy where he was pressed into the hollow of Renji's neck.

"The passageway...Makoto showed it to you?" he whispered.  
"Yes," Renji croaked.  
"Use it tonight, after the lanterns are put out in the gardens," he whispered. He felt Renji stiffen a little, then swallow.  
"I'll be there."

*

Anticipation was usually something Renji could endure. He felt so alive in the calm before a battle, waiting for the signal to charge. Nervousness on the field played its part in fighting well, but he wasn't sure that nervousness in the bedroom resulting in fucking well. He was crawling in his skin even as the lanterns were lit. Hiroyuki would be sat outside Byakuya's suite about now, he thought, watching the remains of dinner being carried away. He tried to read over his scant collection of poetry to pass the time and put him in a more romantic mood. Every sound made him jump - the scuffling footsteps of servants and the grass covers being tapped into place over doors to ward against the snow.

After the lanterns were extinguished, he made himself wait a few more moments before opening his closet and groping around at the back until the panel slid aside. The passageway through to Byakuya's rooms was pitch black and only just wide enough for his broad shoulders, even with his lantern held out ahead of him. It ended in a discreet sliding door and another closet.

Renji stepped out into the warm glow of the library. Byakuya was already waiting, propped against the table with a well worn book hanging limp in one hand. He must have heard Renji coming, because they immediately locked gazes in the low light.

The picture was somewhat familiar, but Renji still wasn't used to seeing the older man with his hair down and falling softly around his face. He certainly wasn't used to seeing him only wrapped very loosely in a soft blue kimono, skin vaguely pink from his bath, blanket wrapped around his knees. Renji suddenly wanted a jug of sake to calm his nerves, but it seemed like they were doing this stone cold sober. He swallowed around the nerves caught in his throat.

Byakuya rose and held out his hand for Renji; it was warm. He rubbed his thumb over calluses and let himself be led back across the main audience room, which was chilled by the frosty air pressing in from the courtyards on either side. The soft sounds of their footfalls were overshadowed by Renji's heart, thudding as if determined to prove his virility.

Renji had not had much cause to be in Byakuya's bedroom before, but it was about as he remembered it - fine blankets piled on the futon and delicate shelves decorated with ceramics. Everything was artfully arranged to show off Byakuya's katana, cradled in a stand at the centre of the far wall. His eyes skittered to a halt when he saw the jar of oil next to the futon.

Tearing his eyes away from the oil, he realised Byakuya was leaning close. Soft lips trailed over his neck, mouthing at whatever skin peeked out around Renji's collar. "We'll have to be quiet," Byakuya breathed. Renji could only promise to try. He caught Byakuya's jaw and coaxed him into a lingering kiss. "We won't be disturbed, I told Hiroyuki to take tonight off," he whispered.

Byakuya hummed his appreciation and they were kissing again. Renji's hands pressed low into the small of Byakuya's back to bring them closer. He struggled to settle on what he wanted, brain fizzing with possibilities as if he would only get this one chance. He hoped there would be plenty of time to appreciate the little nuances of being together. He wanted to catalogue them all; the way Byakuya leaned so heavily against him, trusting his balance, the way his fingers played with the baby hairs at the nape of Renji's neck, the dimples Renji thought he could feel at the base of Byakuya's spine. There would be more yet to learn about the lithe body pressed against him, arching with an edge of impatience.

Byakuya's hands pressed down on his shoulders, hinting, massaging his neck. "On my knees?" Renji whispered, happy to be the one to vocalise Byakuya's needs. They pulled back and Byakuya nodded with another little nudge. Renji knelt on the end of the futon, cock filling at the prospect of what came next. His hands found the points of Byakuya's hips above his obi, rubbing them fondly before moving to untie the older man's robe. But he was softly batted away.

Instead Byakuya tipped Renji's head gently forward to work loose his topknot. Renji rested his forehead against Byakuya's stomach, eyes closed against the sensation of his hair being massaged loose, cascading down and catching in his collar. Long fingers ran in soothing circles across his scalp, then brushed over his cheekbones and hooked under his chin. "Now you may undress me. If you wish," Byakuya whispered. Renji thought he could see a faint blush on those fine features.

The obi unwound easily under his fingers, hissing as silk brushed silk before it was flung aside. Renji picked the sides of the kimono open painfully slowly, kissing the pale stomach he discovered underneath and watching the muscles jump. Byakuya's hands leapt to Renji's shoulders in response.

The more Renji watched, the more he saw how taught Byakuya's body was. Perhaps it was nerves. A few stolen moments, quick and dirty, would not compare to the intimacy of being taken apart and loved after years of abstinence. Renji was determined to do just that, pouring his feelings into every brush of lips against skin. He lingered, tonguing down the dark trail of hair below Byakuya's belly button. The kimono hung open enough for Renji to untie Byakuya's fundoshi, casting them aside to focus his attention on more pressing matters.

Byakuya's cock was hard and flushed already, twitching as Renji wrapped his mouth around it and hummed. He relished the sting of Byakuya's nails digging into his neck, the hitched breaths as he sucked, bobbing his head. He paused when Byakuya let out a soft groan, pulling back. "Come down here," Renji said, tugging on a sleeve. His lover quickly complied, flicking back the blankets on the futon and sliding down.

It was a picture, Byakuya sinking back on the sheets, kimono rumpled and open underneath him. Renji couldn't help but lean forward, kissing Byakuya until he was melting into the mattress, hands weakly tangled in the redhead's hair. "You're so beautiful," Renji smiled, leaning back on his heels to undress.

The bedroom wasn't quite warm enough but he still took his time all the same. He loved making a show of stripping, always had. The fire in Byakuya's eyes told him that he looked good doing it, knew how to work his angles. The older man only resisted for a few moments before slithering down the bed a little to press his hands against Renji's pecs and slide teasingly down. They both fumbled at his fundoshi, Byakuya exhaling in annoyance until they were finally flung away somewhere. Renji's eyebrows twitched up in surprise at the gesture but Byakuya was climbing into his lap, kissing him hard before he had chance to tease.

He'd forgotten where he was even going with this entire encounter. Were they going to fuck? Who was going to do the fucking? Renji believed in 'don't ask, don't get' but Byakuya was keeping him thoroughly occupied, one soft hand wrapped firmly around his dick. He was lost in the circle of Byakuya's fingers tugging him until he was even harder and softly grunting into open mouthed kisses. He jerked his hips upwards twice and caught himself before it went any further. "I want you, Byakuya," he said at last, tongue chasing into Byakuya's mouth, pulling the other man closer with a hand at the base of his skull. "I want to be inside you." The answering moan was all Renji needed to spur him on, gently spilling Byakuya off his lap and onto the mattress again.

He dipped his fingers into the oil and settled on his belly between Byakuya's knees. He ran a soothing hand over Byakuya's stomach, looking at him and waiting until the other man nodded. Renji licked a stripe up Byakuya's cock in answer. Byakuya immediately dropped his head against the pillow and tucked the knuckles of his index finger between his teeth to stifle a groan. _Fuck, turning him on is such a turn on_ , Renji thought, taking a deep breath.

The insides of Byakuya's thighs were kissed and bitten and sucked until they were a little bruised before Renji went back to wrap his mouth around his lover again. Oiled fingers patiently pressed at Byakuya's entrance, teasing and finally dipping in. "Tell me if it's too much," he muttered into the pale hip crease under him.

He had to press Byakuya's hips down as he writhed back and forth between Renji's mouth and the fingers opening him up. It wasn't until he heard a soft call of "Renji" that he glanced up from his task. Byakuya's chest was fluttering with panting breaths, hands pulling at the discarded kimono under him and abs tensing. Renji crawled up the bed, pressing the length of their bodies together and rolling his hips. "Is it good, Byakuya? Are you ready for me?" he asked, nipping at Byakuya's bottom lip and then kissing him deeply.

They gently rocked against each other, sharing breaths as Renji waited for an answer. Byakuya's eyes were deep pools, and Renji was submerged in syrupy warm feelings as he peered into them. "Byakuya," he whispered again. "Let me take care of you." There was a shaky breath and a quiet assent, hissed through teeth.

Renji tried to keep their gazes locked as he pressed slowly inside, but his eyes kept flicking between the sight of his cock stretching Byakuya open and his hand gripping the flesh of Byakuya's thigh and the way Byakuya's mouth fell open and then his hips met Byakuya's as he bottomed out. _I'm fucking Kuchiki Byakuya_ he thought, head falling back as he held himself in check. "God this is...." he gave a gentle roll of his hips "...being this close to you feels..."  
"Did you lose your words at last?" Byakuya huffed, looking at him under heavy lids.  
"You're way too coherent," Renji smirked, and moved in earnest.

There was a hitch of breath and a groan from beneath him. Byakuya dropped heavily onto his back and pulled his own thighs further open for Renji, even as his erection leaked against his stomach. "I wish you could see yourself," Renji muttered. Byakuya's breath punched out on every long rolling stroke of his hips. It hot and tight and so much better than Renji thought it would be. Byakuya seemed to come back to himself hearing Renji's rumbling voice and started to rock back against him, clenching experimentally. Renji bit back a growl, snapping his hips forward several times in retaliation.

He suddenly needed to change tactic before it all got away from him. He leaned forward, looming over Byakuya to watch his expression as he changed angle, thrusting experimentally until the man underneath him tensed and _lord the sounds he made_. Renji would have called it a whine, but this was Kuchiki Byakuya, so instead he took it as a firm request to do that again _repeatedly_. Renji diligently worked his hips, grinding deliberately against that spot until Byakuya's hands wrapped tight around his biceps, and he moaned again. It was a little too loud. Renji swiftly bent to swallow any more of his lord's 'requests' with kisses.

"Touch me," Byakuya whispered, looking hazy and flushed and wanting. Renji wrapped his hand around Byakuya's neglected erection and crowded in, desperate to be as close as possible. He tucked his face into Byakuya's shoulder, breaths sharp with the building pleasure. It was messy, the air between them a touch too warm and the cold air licking at his back just a touch too cold. The friction was absolutely perfect. His hips twitched forward, chasing release as he felt Byakuya pulse in his hand and then shiver all over, muffling a strangled cry in Renji's hair.

The way Byakuya's body tightened around him was enough to pull him into final ragged thrusts, tensing and coming. That perfect warm buzz crept through him, lingering in his groin where they were still joined. It would get too much very quickly. He tried not to collapse, falling slightly sideways and brushing absent kisses over Byakuya's shoulder as they caught their breaths.

Byakuya made a face as he shifted them to lie facing each other. Renji interpreted it as _'I forget how gross this was afterwards'_. Only when they were settled did Byakuya meet his eyes. They were raking over Renji's face in the lantern-light. Whatever they were looking for, Renji decided to just smile. It was that or do something stupid like spill out a long love confessions that went into great detail about Byakuya's beauty and dignity and skill and good taste. And his body. The glorious, graceful, lean stretch of the man.

"I think I like being lovers in Kanazawa," he said with some effort at biting back anything more. He calmed himself by stroking his fingers over Byakuya's cheekbone and into his hair. Dark eyelashes fluttered closed under his touch. "Mn. Me too," the other man said.

Something stupid would definitely spill out sooner rather than later, Renji suspected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, they're home! They had their moment! 
> 
> History and language notes  
> Jinrikusha/Palanquin - A rickshaw literally comes from the Japanese term Jinrikusha (say it slowly, literally means a human powered vehicle). A palanquin instead is a box carried by two-four people, usually to carry important people that don't want to be seen and can't muddy their clothes getting in and out of a jinrikusha at either end of their journey. 
> 
> Armour - Lol, strap in. Generally samurai would help each other into their armour, and by this point in history armour was fairly ceremonial because until this whole civil war kicked off there was actually much less fighting between clans etc. It consisted of normal hakama like the ones they wear in bleach but with the calf section tied close to their body (think squad 2/ninjas). Then two sleeves with little attached chest covers that tie under each arm and lace at the wrist. The armour itself is like lacquered pieces of metal, which are tied to the underclothes in various places - calves, forearms, a chest piece and shoulder pieces that are attached together at the collarbone, a piece that ties around the waist to protect the thighs. Samurai apparently wore their hair down with their helmets, but protected by head coverings - and all I can say about that is I'd imagine it's a LOOK. The helmets are heavy from what I understand but from personal experience the face masks that cover your nose/mouth are surprisingly comfortable.
> 
> Bokken - a wooden practice sword, often used in training. 
> 
> Tachi - Byakuya wears a tachi sword in this scene, which is longer and more curved than a katana. They're always tied on a belt rather than tucked into the hakama like you've seen shinigami/samurai do regularly in other shows. You have to draw the sword in a sort of crouch because it's so long and curved. _AHEM._ Which means some people think they were primarily used on horseback. It's SUPER ceremonial and you'll see tachi in lots of pictures of the Big Dick Dudes like Oda Nobunaga and Tokugawa Ieyasu. 
> 
> In summary, there were many swords in this chapter, and they were... _various_. Wink. Wink.


	10. Stepping over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They all know, you know," Renji said quietly before Byakuya had time to collect his thoughts properly. The redhead was looking at him intently now as he wondered who 'they' were and what they knew.  
> "Know what, Renji?" Byakuya asked, mostly to avoid saying any more.  
> "About us."
> 
> Oh.
> 
> \----
> 
> Renji and Byakuya aren't fooling anyone, so they decide not to try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read the new tags :)

###  April, 1870

At the bottom of his sake cup there was a single painted cherry blossom. He could imagine the artist's hand steadily twisting out the delicate curve of the petals. The cup was empty again and for the sixth or seventh time that evening - he couldn't remember exactly - Byakuya was distracted from filling his cup by that tiny painted flower.

No doubt the servants had brought out this particular set of cups because the cherry tress around the estate were on the verge of bursting into clouds of pink blossom. It seemed to escape their notice that Byakuya did not relish this time of year. It would forever be the time of year that he lost Hisana. Now he would also associate it with another shift of circumstance.

Yesterday, the contract he had signed in Edo had officially come into place. And when faced with this reality, Byakuya abruptly realised that he didn't care what that meant anymore. Despite swearing of sake in general since the poetry incident, he decided to request some sake in celebration of his apathy.

He had been living quite happily as just a landowner these past months. He was at peace with his destiny: he would become a rich recluse living in his dusty old mansion, implacable and opinionated. With only Renji to keep him sane.

 _Renji_.

"Living quite happily" had been very much thanks to Renji. Months of heady late night embraces had merged into a protracted reworking of their lives around each other. Their routine had remained largely unchanged, but there had been a long stream of little day to day compromises, lines drawn, re-imaginings of their place in this new world. 

What they had together was not publicly acknowledged, but it was hard to ignore his private feelings. Especially when he was surrounded by the evidence of their domesticity; two umbrellas tucked by the door in case of rain, Renji's bow discarded on the table in the middle of being restrung, two cushions in front of the mirror from where they had brushed each other's hair before bed.

He set aside the empty bowl next to the sake jug on the table and slipped out onto his veranda to clear his head. He was only a little tipsy. A low-level buzz that threatened to make him sleepy, if he hadn't been consciously waiting up for Renji.

_Speak of the devil._

Renji appeared around the corner of the building and made his way along the veranda. He looked satisfied by a day spent in the sun, with his hakama slightly crumpled from sword drills, warm brown eyes and a heart-stopping smile. He couldn't blame the sake for the way his pulse thrummed at the sight. Renji probably knew about the sake too, if he'd spoken to the servants. His face must have told the story of his thoughts, because Renji exhaled a quiet laugh as he sat down.

"Ah it's finally warm enough to sit outside," Renji sighed in satisfaction. "You've had a good afternoon, I take it?" Byakuya did not take the bait.  
"I had a lot of letters to answer, the messengers will be busy for the rest of the week, I'd guess."  
"Sounds like you've got time to come with me to the hot springs tomorrow then? Soak away your hangover..."  
"I am not drunk." Byakuya bristled. Renji laughed.  
"Still...the onsen would be better than sitting here coughing up cherry blossoms - it's unbearable when the sakura is out. Makes my eyes hurt looking at it," Renji said, wincing out at the garden. Byakuya looked sharply at Renji, wondering how much the man had surmised about his foibles. Or how much the servants had told him.

"They all know, you know," Renji said, looking at him intently. Byakuya's wondered who 'they' were and what they knew. "Know what, Renji?" he asked, mostly because his brain was to fuzzy to play guessing games.  
"About us."

Oh. That was not the thing that Byakuya was expecting him to say.

"They're too polite to say anything," Renji continued, rubbing the back of his neck and dislodging several strands of hair from his already messy topknot. "Everyone always comes to me now. You know, to ask what you'll think of this or that and whether you liked the new tea. They let me know where you're hiding, stuff like that." When Byakuya remained silent, Renji saw fit to carry on rambling. "So it got back to me pretty fast that you'd ordered two bottles of sake for yourself in the middle of the afternoon. Did you save any for me?" Byakuya tried not to blush at how childish his behaviour sounded. "No."

He looked vaguely unsure of himself when Byakuya gave him a disapproving glance. Then he was suddenly, blindingly grinning. "Last week Makoto just straight up asked me if we needed more hot water brought for the bath now both of us are sharing. I think he was sort of bored of us pretending. I ended up just turning around and leaving, I was so fucking embarrassed," Renji babbled. He had a tendency to babble when he was nervous. "We can be more discreet...it might help if I'm seen coming out of my own room more often, you know. I mean, they're all very loyal, it doesn't seem like they...well...everyone knows you're in charge."

Something twisted in him at how unsure Renji seemed and he was dismayed to feel his own back prickling with embarrassment too. Were the servants really speculating about who did what in their relationship? Considering the gossip around his father's affairs he supposed it was only natural.

No, he thought, anger simmering. That was different. There had been a parade of lovers dancing through the estate in his father's day - and very few repeat performances. He only had Renji. "They should treat our privacy with more respect," he said at last.  
"They treat you with all the respect in the world, Byakuya. It's more about me, I think. Sorry, I know you don't like gossip." Renji said with an easy smile and Byakuya's mouth twisted.

"I do not care that they know," he said firmly, turning on his knees to face Renji, who had frozen comically in the middling of swinging his leg off the walkway. "Seriously?"

Renji's face turned amusingly slack as he leant closer. He brushed their lips together as lightly as he possibly could. His teasing earned him a hitched breath, so he did it again, dragging against Renji's bottom lip. They didn't kiss outside like this and Byakuya appreciated the novelty, the thrill tripping down his spine as he took Renji's jaw in his hand and nudged him forward into a proper kiss. Renji still hadn't quite caught up by the time Byakuya pulled away, his eyes still a little hazy.

"Seriously," he affirmed.

*

Renji had waited a long while for the right time to say I love you. He was patient whilst they settled back into their routine. He kept his mouth shut through the honeymoon period, when the library passageway became the frequent stage for rushed afternoon liaisons, all teeth and tongues and aching knees. I love you felt like unnecessary pressure whilst they were negotiating the finer points of living together. Then the government started making good on their promises, picking away individual threads of power until Byakuya looked thin and ragged, liable to tear in two.

When it finally got too much, Renji bent himself over the first hard surface he found and let Byakuya _take_ and be his lord again. He'd gripped the table with white knuckles and gasped at the strength in Byakuya's hand pressing down between his shoulder blades. The furious, desperate pace had rattled the tea set right off the side of the table, sending it crashing to the floor and almost bringing the maids running. Not their first close call, but perhaps the start of the gossip, in hindsight.

Here sat on the veranda, blinking in the aftermath of being _seductively kissed in the open by Kuchiki Byakuya_ , Renji had to remind himself that cherry blossoms weren't a good omen for confessions either. Makoto had taken him aside to explain the history the first time spring had come around.

So Renji still waited.

Luck wasn't on his side.

The messengers that Byakuya had sent out with his correspondence that week came back much faster than anticipated, and carrying the worst news. Renji took responsibility of the rain-drenched letter with shaking hands, deciding immediately that nobody else should have the task of delivering it. He rushed back through the estate, ignoring the sight of fragile sakura blossoms being battered by spring rain.

Byakuya's face fell reading the missive. The messenger had already told Renji what had happened, gossip naturally coming ahead of the contents of the letter. Ukitake and Kyoraku had found themselves unwelcome in Tokyo and decided to run away to a drafty country estate over the winter. Being shut out in the cold had been too much for Ukitake, crawling into his bones and consuming him. He had passed away a few weeks ago from a chest complaint. Rukia wrote begging them to come to the funeral and, tentatively, wondering if she could come "home".

"Make arrangements," Byakuya had said quietly, hand covering his eyes. Sakura petals drifted lazily in through the open screens behind him, and Renji thought what a beautiful picture it would make, in any other circumstances. He swallowed and it felt like broken glass, thinking about Byakuya reading such a letter just hours after visiting Hisana's shrine.

He reached over the desk and squeezed Byakuya's hands together between his, suddenly so grateful to be together. He was caught between imagining Byakuya's loneliness for all those years and the fresh pain of Kyouraku's loss. The words almost slipped out in the face of it all, but it wasn't right to say 'I love you' in response to someone else's tragedy. So instead Renji threw himself into the job - sending for hot tea and sweets, arranging travel, making sure that Rukia's rooms were prepared, disseminating the news.

They left Kanazawa's spring rain behind and turned their faces towards warm sunshine and sea breezes, moods uplifted by the weather. From Ukitake's estate, you could just make out the sparkling surface of Lake Biwa in the distance. Renji took his time appreciating the view whilst they waited between ceremonies and greetings; if this was where banishment led to, he wouldn't have considered it a hardship. This beautiful vista couldn't be held responsible for what had come next for Ukitake.

He kept his distance because here at this funeral he was just the bodyguard. However it was a relief, not to have a direct conversation with Kyouraku. Even from a distance, the hollow look of grief on the playwright's face made him feel slightly sick.

He also tried not to listen as Byakuya talked with Rukia, but the hitched sobs still filtered across the space between them and Renji found himself looking up into those violet eyes he knew so well. They were red and tired and full of hurt. All he could do was offer a weak smile, just a twitch at the corner of his mouth. He got one in return.

The procession to the temple, a ragged line staggering behind the wooden coffin, made it quite clear how few relatives Ukitake had. Even Renji and Byakuya had mostly just come to support Rukia who, along with Kyouraku, appeared to be closest thing to family in attendance. Is this what being committed to another man, without heirs, had cost Ukitake? Renji could see now how much of a joy it must have been to have Rukia with them. She looked lost, her usually energetic posture reduced to wavering, slim shoulders hunched at the front of the line.

Byakuya had held them back in the crowd to let Rukia have her moment. The road between the estate and the temple was loud where it was open and unprotected from the wind, affording them a little privacy to talk. Which was a relief because Renji couldn't stop his most pressing question from bubbling out.

"Will Kyouraku be alright without them both, all of a sudden?" he said quietly. Byakuya nodded, but he looked concerned. "I expect he'll go back to Tokyo."  
"I guess the theatre scene will keep him busy...I hope he won't just drink it away," Renji sighed.  
"Indeed," Byakuya replied, but he didn't seem invested in the conversation, pondering something else in the way he was wont to.

Renji tried not to fidget in his best clothes whilst he waited for his lover to speak. He hated funerals.

"I will tell Rukia about us, when we get back."

Renji felt like a warm stone had slipped down his throat into his stomach. He was jittery just thinking about how nice that would be. "When we were in Edo, Ukitake told me that he thought she would be happy for us," Byakuya admitted, glancing his way.  
"I hope she is," Renji smiled, holding the other man's eye.

That clear, grey gaze wasn't at all icy, today. Instead it held some unnamed emotion that Renji recognised from early morning walks and late night dinners. From even later-night couplings when he lay next to Byakuya, willing his heart to beat softer. He didn't realise they'd stopped walking until Byakuya raised an eyebrow quizzically at him.

"I love you," he confessed. Byakuya inhaled sharply, eyes wide.

Once it was out, Renji sucked in a breath and decided to carry on. "I know I shouldn't be saying it like this, but I need to. I don't want to be apart from you."

Byakuya blinked slowly and Renji thought he saw a hint of a smile before the older man turned to carry on walking. His hands were shaking. He squeezed them into fists, wondering if he'd done the right thing, hoping for something in return. Just a few words, if that wasn’t too much to hope for?

Byakuya had only gone a few steps before he turned back, eyebrows raised invitingly and Renji could suddenly breath again. He hurried to catch up.

They walked close, sleeves catching together. Byakuya's hand brushed his, once, then slipped closer to link their pinky fingers together, indulging affection just for a few moments. "I don't wish to be parted either, Renji," came the quiet response. It always took time for Byakuya to work up to conversation, so Renji waited a few beats before he twisted, looking for Byakuya's eyes. "I love you," he said again, unable to resist. Then Byakuya's eyes crinkled. "I love you," came the answering confession.

Renji beamed, laughed and then schooled his expression back into something suitable for a funeral. Ukitake would be proud of them, surely.

*

Spending a few short years on the streets had gifted Rukia with a certain sensitivity to people's intentions and their truthfulness. It had been a while since she'd had an extended opportunity to study her brother, but she could tell that something distinctly _untruthful_ was going on. Nii-sama was what you would call "relaxed" - a miracle given the events of the past year and a half, she felt. Then there was the fact that Renji was less servile and twitchy than he was on her last visit to Kanazawa. The whole journey she quietly observed how well they worked together.

It was an excellent distraction from the uprooting, or perhaps re-potting, of her life back to Kanazawa. The place she still thought of as her sister's home.

Hisana had left a delicate imprint on the Kuchiki-mansion, faded like a pressed flower. There were little whispers that Rukia picked up on, even though they had never lived there together. She had inherited the home when her sister had passed away, and was left to unwind her place in it. It had been a relief to leave and live with Ukitake, in a way.

She was pleasantly surprised to find that the whole estate felt quite different now, though. Well. It was still more formal than what she was used to - there was a great deal more routine and more people and less privacy for one. But everyone was smiling. Renji was smiling.

Her rooms were across the courtyard from her brother's, and she watched with interest as Renji practically skipped to and from the lord's suite. It wasn't until she saw Renji leaving the suite before breakfast, still tying up his hair, that she connected the dots.

Makoto was quite clearly neck-deep in the whole affair, given the way he ran interference for them. Rukia had been most politely and subtly redirected from entering Byakuya's rooms at 3 o'clock in the afternoon just a few days after her arrival. She had to smirk at that. Renji always was an impulsive one.

This minor afternoon tussle resulted in an invite to have dinner with her Nii-sama the next night. Or at least, she _assumed_ that Makoto had given her brother a discreet nudge that she was onto them. Which was why dinner with Nii-sama actually turned out to be dinner with both Byakuya and Renji. A distinctly flustered looking Renji.

She knew her brother well enough to read between the lines when Byakuya poured Renji's tea first. Nii-sama obviously didn't want to leave any doubt in her mind, though, because when the food had been taken away, he shifted out of his formal seiza kneel and practically leaned against Renji's side. She met her brother's gaze with her usual kind smile and made no comment.

And if she took the chance when Nii-sama wasn't looking to waggle her eyebrows at Renji just to see him blush, well, that was her own business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noooooo Jyuushiro Nooooo. I hated doing this but I wanted Rukia back with her brother and the stakes had to be raised. Please forgive me. 
> 
> Also I'm not sure how I ended up with Byakuya doing so much drinking....????? I hope that's working for you all, anyway. 
> 
> I have almost finished with the next chapter, so I've got a sort of buffer back too. Phew. 
> 
> History and Language Notes  
> I've technically missed a whole year period where Japan attempted a western-style 'peerage' system with like Dukes and Barons and things instead of Daimyo. Mostly because it was quickly phased out and felt unnecessarily complicated to the plot line....but it was a thing, for your reference everyone. 
> 
> Funerals - Japan never could decide between it's native faiths and buddhism. Funeral traditions were a real mix in this period, because traditionally Daimyo were buried but cremations were also common because buddhism. But also because the Meiji government had started to form all the disparate local/native traditions and rituals into the one form of Shinto that we can see in Japan today. By the late 19th century funerals seemed to be a bit more of a big ceremonial thing, so I went for something a bit more muted.


	11. Sticking point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Renji and Byakuya start to feel like relics in a modern world. A world that doesn't want them loving each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breaking that 30k mark :O
> 
> There's a lot of dialogue this time around, I'm tired ha.

###  September, 1872

Something about the colour and luxurious texture of the paper had caught Renji's eye. The letter had been read, the creases smoothed out, and then tucked away amongst the documents on Byakuya's desk. Except for an obnoxious pink corner left sticking out. It was a familiar shade of pink, somehow. Renji read the letter before even thinking and his suspicions were confirmed when he saw the signature.

_Dear Kuchiki sama,_

_It has become very Autumn like; how have you been?_

_Here in Tokyo, the Autumn is a blessing compared to the summer heat. The theatre was almost entirely empty in July just because the weather was so unbearable. It put me in a miserable mood, as we were meant to be debuting my latest work. I enclose a copy for your entertainment, even though I daresay you will think it crass. I expect Renji to blush a beautiful red, though. You must tell me if he does._

_I am partly writing to ask after my dearest Rukia. I still worry about her. I even miss her scathing rejections and withering stares. Send word immediately with her response to my pathetic worrying. If she doesn't snort derisively I will be disappointed._

_You must guess that I hate writing serious letters, but my second reason for writing is unfortunately quite serious._

_The mood here in Tokyo is even more vicious now than when my dear Jyūshiro and I ran away together to the countryside. At first, there were just rumours, but now I have it on good authority that the government is passing a law that personally affects us both - well, you moreso than me these days. And handsome Renji, of course! By the end of the year, our nanshoku lifestyle will be outlawed. Being a hopeless romantic, I'm devastated that you two will be forced apart. Maybe it's not a surprise, though, to intelligent people like Kuchiki-sama._

_I can't advise you both on how to live your life, but hope that you take care to avoid my own tragedy._

_Kyōraku Shunsui_

Over dinner Renji struggled to keep his face neutral despite the greasy, guilty feeling in his stomach from reading the letter. Later, he lay awake with Byakuya tucked against his side and debated whether he should confess to having read it. The longer he tried not to think about it, the more his brain tangled on the contents themselves. Why had Byakuya not told him that the government was going to make their relationship illegal? Was he working up the nerve? Was he optimistic that the rumours were false? He firmly pushed aside the worst case scenario - that Byakuya simply accepted that they had run their course - and finally fell asleep.

He woke up with a jerk when Byakuya slipped out from under the blankets the next morning, a wave of cold air rolling into the space he vacated. "Go back to sleep," he said, brushing Renji's hair back to lie neatly over the pillow. Yesterday's worries rushed back in, as if he'd not slept at all. Renji huffed and rolled over to pull on Byakuya's sleeve. "Come back to bed," he countered, and it came out sounding so needy he almost winced.

Needy wasn't a usual state of affairs for Renji. He tried so hard to be laid back in the face of Byakuya's independent, solitary nature. So it wasn't a surprise that Byakuya was now staring at him with open concern. "Did you sleep badly?" he asked, beginning the diagnosis. Renji averted his eyes, fingers still knotted in a silk sleeve.  
"Yeah," he admitted.  
"Too cold?"  
Renji exhaled a laugh and decided to fake it a little. "With you in my bed?". Byakuya was unmoved. "I’m fairly certain that it is _our_ bed at this point, Renji. What is wrong."  
"It's too early for conversation," he said, scrubbing a hand over his face and letting go of the sleeve regretfully.  
"Then I will wait," Byakuya said, getting back into bed. Renji panicked.

They lay facing each other in silence. Awkward, extended silence. The sort that always ended with Renji spilling the inane contents of his head just to fill the void. He sucked on his teeth to resist the instinct.

"Are you ill?" Byakuya said at last, looking desperate for cooperation. Renji appreciated the effort. "No. No I'm not ill," he sighed, and prepared himself to telling the truth. He fell back on the mattress so that he could look at the ceiling instead of into Byakuya's worried face.

"I read Kyoraku's letter," he said. Byakuya stiffened and Renji rushed into his apology. "I'm sorry I know it was addressed to you and I shouldn't have looked. I've never done it before, it's just...I couldn't forget once I'd read it."  
"Do not hide things from me, Renji. I do not appreciate it, and I can always tell."  
"Right, and you didn't hide the letter from _me_ at all. It's not fair. Kyouraku said it himself: it affects us both."  
"I didn't say anything because is not worth worrying about," Byakuya snapped, throwing the covers off himself and moving to his wardrobe.

Byakuya made the act of getting dressed look so much like a statement. The swift, sharp motions as he tied knots and smoothed wrinkles all screamed his displeasure.

Renji still had to ask. "Not worth worrying about because you don't think it will happen? Or because you don't care if it does?"

Byakuya left. The screen door snapped shut after him.

Renji let himself despair a little. Was he overreacting? They didn't know what this law would entail. It was quite possible that it would apply to the more traditional arrangement that samurai kept between an older and younger partner, samurai in training - like the one he'd had with Hisagi as a teenager. He'd heard that Tokyo was littered with brothels full of teenage boys catering to older clientele these days, which couldn't be good. _Maybe we can escape this?_

He spent the day in his own company. First he tried to recenter himself with abysmal attempts at archery, then moved on to hitting things with a stick, which was predictably much more successful. As the afternoon wore on, he went to sit in the long grasses outside of the estate walls. His face was turned towards the breeze, eyelids warmed by the last of the summer sun. It was some time into his attempt at meditation when he heard Byakuya approaching - the unmistakable snick of silk on the grasses as he knelt in a neat seiza just behind Renji.

"I didn't want to burden you," he said quietly when Renji didn't acknowledge him for a few moments.

"We're meant to share burdens," Renji said.  
"I believed it wasn't likely to happen, given how prevalent...." Byakuya said. "Then after I'd received the letter, this came too. From the government, to educate Samurai," he explained, slipping a leaflet out of the folds of his kimono and handing it to Renji. "It is such dross but it is shows they are determined. It is also offensive. I didn't want to burden you."

The cover read _'The dangers of nanshoku relationships'_ and then _'New scientific studies from Germany reveal the negative effects on the male body'_. Underneath in small writing was printed 'Official publication from the Government of Japan'. Inside, a cursory skim told Renji all he wanted to know: the paper claimed that the act of being taken by a man imbued you with naturally more feminine qualities. Laying with men would turn you into a woman. Renji's mouth twisted. The breeze pulled at the pages and Renji considered letting the wind steal the leaflet away and take the problem with it.

So, Byakuya had been trying to protect him from this new scientific 'proof'. "You should have just burnt it," Renji spat, turning at last to Byakuya, close enough that their knees brushed. "If enough people believe this trash...." he started.  
"We will still know that it is a lie. I have been with you many times these past few years, and I am still a man, am I not?" Byakuya said, a slight smile almost visible.

"You don't have to tell me. I mean, I'm fairly sure I can grow a better beard than you and I've never even been with a woman," Renji said, looking away with a slight flush of embarrassment. When he risked glancing back, Byakuya was looking at him with obvious surprise. "Brothels felt sort of wrong, given everything Rukia told me. So since I was 16, all I've known is this. What we have," he explained.

Renji hesitated. They'd never really discussed the details of past liaisons, but this felt more like nostalgia than prying. "Did you...when you were younger....with Jyushiro?" he asked, haltingly. It was an assumption he'd made a long time ago and never dared to ask.  
"Jyushiro was my father's lover," Byakuya said, eyebrow raised in amusement and Renji had to laugh at himself.  
"Ah, sorry...wow. I should have known, being that much older..."  
"There was....someone," the older man confessed, trading a secret for Renji's own.  
"Really?" Renji leaned in with a grin, squeezed Byakuya's thigh encouragingly. "What was he like?"  
"Brash. Tall. A troublemaker."  
"Ah. So you have a type?"  
"We were both troublemakers, believe it or not. I made quite a spectacle of myself, fawning over him."

Renji had heard a few secondhand stories from Rukia about Byakuya as a hotheaded youth. It made him smile to think about it. "Where is he now?"  
"He is one of those rebellious southern lords. I hear he's amassed an interesting array of military equipment down near Satsuma..."  
"No way.....Saigo?"  
"Please."  
"Urahara?"  
"That oaf? Renji."  
"Shiba?"  
Byakuya snorted. "You will not be able to guess."

Renji conceded with a mock suspicious glance, knowing it was probably true. He was woefully under educated when it came to clan politics. "When did you stop seeing each other? When you met Hisana?"  
"No. He got married first, actually. He didn't want to stop seeing each other, but I was quite heartbroken. I knew he was betrothed when I met him, so my only excuse is that I was 18 and in love."  
"18 and in love...I remember that feeling..."

Renji was reeling. He looked at the pamphlet in his lap. Byakuya had such a run of bad luck in love - from an engaged man to being widowed in his twenties, and now this.

"What happens if enough people believe it?" Renji asked. Byakuya looked thoughtful, taking time to choose his words. "I have made enquiries. The government are intending to specifically ban sodomy, based on this study," there was a clinical, detached tone to Byakuya's voice when he explained. The fact that he was picking imaginary lint from his hakama was the only sign that he was uncomfortable.  
"...how the hell are they going to know? I mean, nobody here would tell on us right?"  
"It will be punishable by imprisonment."

The bottom dropped out of his stomach a little. Even if they _didn't_ do....that....there was nobody else in the room when they were together to corroborate that they weren't breaking the law. Everyone would just see them carrying on as normal, sharing a bed and bathwater and lazy kisses on the veranda, and assume the rest. Renji's eyes stung and he knew immediately how it was going to be. "..so better safe than sorry, then," he mumbled, tearing the pamphlet in his grip.

Byakuya was the one to huddle closer this time, tugging at a sleeve. "Renji, my love for you is not contingent on what we can or cannot do in bed," the older man said at last. The sentiment was that of someone older, wiser. He imagined Byakuya with Hisana, unable to touch her because of her illness, then later, wishing her back no matter the cost, even if it meant being held at a distance. Renji's heart thumped with the tenderness and with the loss of it in equal measure. He couldn't imagine not being able to express his feelings physically, but not everyone had that luxury in the first place.

"We'll be alright, won't we?"

Byakuya pressed his palm into Renji's chest, caught his eye. "We will be fine. Now," Byakuya leaned against him, head falling against his shoulder. "Tell me about your first love."  
"You want to hear about Hisagi?" Renji's eyebrows shot up.  
"I want to hear about Renji as a lovesick teenager."  
"It wasn't really love, not like...ah...not like I would describe love now..." Renji started, blushing. "I more just really really liked his shoulders."  
Byakuya snorted a laugh.  
"He was ripped and I was a beansprout. He had this aloof sort of smile..."  
"You also have a type, then?"  
"I guess I do....but Hisagi wasn't really much more than sex. We fucked, he taught me to fight and drink, we fucked some more. Teenage boy's dream."  
"So it wasn't special?"  
"Of course it was, you don't forget your first time. I couldn't get enough of that feeling, you know, losing control and giving back. I was a little upset when I reached 19 and it sort of fizzled. But it wasn't really more than that."  
"He was always the one taking you?"  
"Yeah..."  
"So, before me, you hadn't...?"  
"No....." Renji exhaled shakily, embarrassed again.  
"I hadn't taken a man before you, either, Renji," Byakuya said, and Renji could _sense_ the smirk.  
"Do you mind that we switch?"  
"No."

Byakuya's hand was wandering across his lap and playing with the opening of his hakama. Renji had to chuckle, sat there with the propaganda leaflet in his lap whilst Byakuya's fingers boldly skimmed up towards his balls. "I think we should go prove how manly we are," Renji grinned.  
"Dinner first," Byakuya objected.  
"No, I don't think so," he replied.

Renji turned and Byakuya's mouth was already there waiting for his. All it took was a gentle nudge for all the resistance to melt. They sunk down until all they could see was the grass reaching up around them towards the endless blue sky. They passed kisses back and forth, taking turns to direct the pressure and the angle. The push and pull grew in urgency until Renji was sliding his tongue into Byakuya's mouth, crowding over him, their hips shifting against each other in gentle circles. There were sharp little exhales on every press. Renji drank in the dark, hazy expression on his lover's face, the one he always wore when Renji pounced unexpectedly. "If I make love to you right here, do you think we'd be caught?" he whispered into the hollow of Byakuya's throat, teeth scraping up to the tender skin under his ear.

"No, not here. I want to be in your lap," Byakuya mumbled, fingertips in the muscles of Renji's shoulders, hips hitching and dragging the hard line of his cock against Renji's abs. "Ah _Renji_. Take me back inside so I can ride you."

Renji swore, clenching his fists to stop himself from stuffing his hands into Byakuya's hakama right that second. He exhaled and propped himself up on one elbow. "If we meet Rukia halfway, you're forbidden from asking her to tea just because of manners or some shit," he warned, and Byakuya had the decency to look at least a little apologetic. So he should, after making Renji sit, painfully aroused, through three cups of tea the previous week.

They didn't meet Rukia. The servants didn't comment, even if they noticed grass seeds on their lord's kimono and Renji's hair falling out of its up-do. Renji followed until Byakuya paused where the corridor opened up to the courtyard and his rooms. He flicked Renji a glance that he couldn't quite read and swept back down the hallway the way they'd come. Renji followed, amused, as Byakuya disappeared down the dim passageway that led to Renji's own rooms instead.

In those first months, Renji had sometimes woken up in the early hours of the morning to find Byakuya crawling into his bed. The visits were usually desperate, urgent exchanges. They'd stopped after a while when they grew bold enough to spread themselves out anywhere they wanted to across Byakuya's suite. Perhaps Byakuya was worried about being disturbed today, Renji thought, or perhaps he felt particularly urgent.

Sure enough, as he reached the door to his room there were long fingers curling in his collar, urging him to push Byakuya up against it and kiss themselves breathless, so he did. He started pulling off Byakuya's haori right there on the step, catching his lover's arms up in it, holding him steady and licking up his jaw. The resulting moan made Renji pull away and bundle Byakuya through the door before someone heard.

They were on each other again as the door slid closed, shedding Byakuya's clothing as they went until he was stood there naked in the middle of the room. His hand pressed against Renji's chest, making him pause. "Let me do the work," he said, and Renji shuddered.

Soft hands worked their way into the collar of his kimono, teasing before they smoothed down across his chest, settling in to unpick the knots of his hakama, push them from his hips. Renji craned his neck to watch as Byakuya circled him. “Your shoulders are beautiful,” Byakuya said simply. The kimono was pulled off him and lips followed, ghosting down his back. Teeth sunk into the point where his neck met his shoulder, and his eyes closed on a groan. Byakuya's knee nudged against the back of his leg, hands on his hips urging him towards the bed. He went very willingly, utterly spoiled by the caresses that followed him down, as if Byakuya didn't want to stop touching him for even a second.

He was persuaded back down to the mattress, his hands patiently untangled from grasping at Byakuya's waist and guided up to tangle into Byakuya's hair instead. When he met his lover's eyes, Renji was greeted with such a dark, filthy stare that his cock throbbed. "Are you about to....?" he started, but Byakuya was already kissing down his stomach, tongue dipping into his belly button. “Let me know if you start to feel less of a man,” Byakuya quipped, his mouth curving.

Then he was lost, absolutely lost in a warm mouth around his dick, tongue pressing up against the head. Renji closed his eyes to hone in on every point of contact. The soft insides of Byakuya's thighs bracketing his legs, one hand wrapped around the base of his erection. Fingers tracing soft circles into his hip, then a thumb dipping lower into the crease of his thigh. The silk of Byakuya's hair spilling through his fingers. The hum of Byakuya moaning around him, rocking forward until the head of his cock bumped, wet with precum against Renji's legs.

Byakuya pulled away before Renji got too close to the edge. He was panting, trying to hide how the muscles in his legs were twitching. Byakuya shuffled up the bed, reaching back with an oil-slick hand to prepare himself. Another spark of arousal pulsed through Renji at the sight. For whatever reason, Byakuya wanted to take the lead, his free hand pressed into Renji's chest to keep him still. So Renji forced himself to lie there and enjoy the spectacle. He watched Byakuya fuck himself back onto his own fingers until he was boneless and pliant and wanting, mouth open, lashes heavy against his cheeks. He was so, so patient, watching Byakuya worry his bottom lip with his teeth, until he couldn’t wait. “Show me, show me how you want it,” he said.

When Byakuya sank down onto Renji at last, the noise he made was almost like singing. It was impossible not to twitch his own hips up in turn, chasing the heat and more of those incredible noises. Byakuya let his own weight do most of the work, bouncing in Renji's lap, hands braced on his chest. It was breathless, glorious fun, and Renji couldn't help smiling, throwing his head back and pulling Byakuya's hips down harder, faster. Byakuya mumbled something about being rough to prove his virility but the words rang hollow with his cheeks flushed and voice rasping. It was exactly what he wanted, and Renji seemed to need it, desperately, all of a sudden.

A tilt of his hips had Byakuya scrabbling for purchase and Renji reached out to help him, praise tumbling from his lips. "You're so good, you feel amazing. I love your cock. Come for me," he whispered. Renji tugged on him fast, rough, until he unravelled with a gasp, eyes open and staring into Renji's. His hips rolled, grinding down through his orgasm until he had Renji swearing, bucking up under him in bliss.

His heart beat out an irregular rhythm, taking its time to come down from the high. Byakuya was curling around him, chaining vague kisses over the curve of his shoulder. "Let's do this more. Got to do this more," he mumbled, fuzzy in the afterglow. He thought Byakuya looked a little sad, but he nodded all the same.

*

When it became clear that the law was actually happening, Renji tried not to think in terms of last times. He absently noted, all the same, that their last times were sparkling and memorable.

His mind ran over Byakuya's words, repeating them until they became an oath - _what we have together is more than what we've done in bed what we have together is more than what we've done in bed_. Then he chastised himself with them as he lay in bed alone, sweat and cum cooling on his chest after jerking himself off to the memories of Byakuya under him, around him, inside him.

They refused to give up everything, only relenting where it really mattered. After a while Renji stopped worrying about whether the servants would see him combing Byakuya's hair and rush to report their obvious indiscretions.

Something about it still made Renji feel brittle, like a sapling planted too close to winter in some exposed spot. Unexpectedly, Byakuya did not freeze and retreat in the face of it all. His expression was always so open now. The way he bumped their shoulders together reeled Renji back in when he felt lost. They ate together, walked together, sparred together with all the same heat of attraction there had been before. Sometimes they met in the secret corridor afterwards. It was a brief respite, never naked, always hurried and with none of the thrilling excitement it held before. Just thrilling fear that it might not happen again or it might be found out. It was enough.

It would have to be enough.

Byakuya abandoned Renji one afternoon to attend to some important matter or other for Rukia. With a flicker of a glance towards Renji he had pressed his volume of poetry open on the desk and slipped away. It felt like an invitation, so Renji turned the book towards himself. He couldn't help but smile at what he read.

_Masked by the snowflakes,  
The colour of your petals  
May well be hidden:  
Yet still put forth your scent  
That men may know you flower. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm almost finished writing this story! Such a weird feeling. That means I might be able to post a bit more often until it's all uploaded, we'll see. 
> 
> History and Language Notes
> 
> Poem is by Ono Takamura
> 
> Nanshoku - The samurai name for a relationship between two men, specifically with one younger and one older. Kyoraku is sort of teasing, using this.
> 
> The Keikan code of 1872 - The law in question only specifically made sodomy illegal, and was only upheld something like 20 times whilst it was in place. It didn't last forever. It was based on German pseudo-science that I've sort of described in the chapter - called 'sexology' which postulated that having same-sex relations affected gender, and generally made some other sort of gross gender-related assertions. 
> 
> Monogamy - Relationships with men and relationships with women were two separate things, and not treated the same. You didn't have to stop seeing your man just because you got married. 
> 
> Seiza - Realised I kept mentioning this. I'm hoping people know this is a formal kneeling position, used in martial arts, meetings, tea ceremony etc. 
> 
> And what about all those men Renji guesses Byakuya has slept with?!?! Well, Renji doesn't mention my personal headcanon teenage romance for this particular setting, but Saigo is a real person and quite important in our story and Japanese history as a whole.


	12. Staying behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The winter had been kind to them, but everything turned bitter before spring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of an indulgent, introspective Byakuya chapter. Which means there is 80% less dialogue than last time.

###  January, 1873

Only a light dusting of snow flecked the fields in December and there was no snow at all in January. A lighter snowfall meant they weren't cut off from the rest of the world for weeks at a time as they usually were in winter. Boats drifted past down the coast, carts of sake and rice coming from Akita trundled through the town, the post made it past the mountains even on the darker January nights.

It was rare for Renji to get letters, especially now that Rukia was firmly ensconced in the household at Kanazawa. It arrived with lunch, balanced on the edge of the tray like the servants weren't sure what to do with it - Renji didn't have a desk to leave it on. The proportions of it were formal, the writing impeccable.

Renji placed the sealed envelope on the table without opening it. He drank his tea, ate his pickled vegetables, but Byakuya couldn't help noticing how his fingers crept back towards it every so often, nudging it out of line, straightening it again, feeling the sharpness of the corners with his thumb. It was absolutely maddening, but Byakuya firmly squashed the urge to snatch the letter and stuff it under his seat cushion until they were done with their meal.

They had wrapped themselves up in quilted blankets and sat down across the brazier to digest quietly when Renji finally ripped open the envelope.

Floating in the hazy, archaic text of Sei Shonagon, Byakuya only resurfaced as the words ebbed out of one chapter and into another. Only then did he notice the unnatural quiet. When he looked up, Renji was turned slightly away, eyes just about kept alive by the light of the flames reflected in them. There was something hollow and sad in his expression, more than just being entranced by the flames. The letter was open on his lap, and Byakuya could see the headed paper now. He felt sick, like he was swaying downhill in a palanquin.

"What is it, Renji?" he asked. Renji's fists clenched. _Oh._ It wasn't sadness, he realised, it was rage. Byakuya squashed his book open, text down on the tatami and held a hand out around the fire to take the letter. Renji surrendered it, then dug a hand into his hair, rhythmically tugging the roots. He did that sometimes, to comfort himself. Sometimes Byakuya did it for him.

It was addressed directly to Renji and it was a summons. Renji was being conscripted to serve in the army.

In Byakuya's mind, it amounted to a blood tax. Ordinary men and samurai both, all across the country being called to arms, for the first time in over 1000 years. The government was making sure that Renji paid his dues, and it was far neater than the way they'd made Byakuya pay - all tangled up in tradition and family and politics and everything else that made him himself.

Demands had been echoing around for months that the samurai should join the newly formed Japanese national army and fulfill their purpose as warriors. The samurai were stubborn. Their allegiance had not quite shifted yet from Daimyo to Government. Even a government that was led, supposedly, by the Emperor. Renji and Byakuya had not seen the danger following in the shadow of other concerns. Now a demand had become an obligation.

"They intend to steal at least three years of your life," Byakuya spat.  
"I've given more years to my Daimyo," Renji said, looking at the floor.  
"I could pay the fee, you could avoid this," he suggested but he knew that Renji's pride wouldn't allow it.  
"What will they say, knowing you paid for me? We're trying to keep a low profile here..." Renji huffed.  
"You aren't angry?"  
"I'm fucking furious. But maybe, if I give them this then it'll be enough, and we'll be left alone."

 _"Renji,"_ he whispered.

There was no way it would be that easy. He almost threw a tantrum and told Renji that his own right was greater - Renji was _his_ , the government couldn't have him. But once upon a time, five years ago, Renji had been ready to give his life for his lord. There had been a span of a decade before that, where his every waking moment was dedicated to serving the Kuchiki family. Byakuya knew now, that the best thing to come out of all of this was the chance for Renji to live for himself. It was his choice. This would be another three years, then a chance at freedom.

"You'll be back?" he said. Renji's face was crumpling through the clean grey wood smoke between them. "I'll come back."

Renji burnt the letter, turning the smoke black.

*

Byakuya had gifted Renji a neat wooden box packed with paper, a jar of ink and a heavy black fountain pen. It was an unspoken instruction to write often. The contents of his pack were otherwise practical, packed neatly in a bundle inside the doorway of his rooms.

They'd had a month to come to terms with it; Renji would be expected in Sendai by spring. A month was long enough for them continue stubbornly on as normal at first. Rukia let down the side a little, always looking slightly frayed around the edges at dinner, but Byakuya was good at pretending not to hurt. They went on like that until Renji started to train up Naomi and Rikichi in earnest to take over from him. He was overly loud about it, as if convincing himself that he was really leaving. It jangled Byakuya's nerves, hearing Renji's instructions for close combat echoing around the gardens. After a few days of this, Byakuya couldn't pretend any more. He didn't want anyone else at his back, it was Renji's spot.

They spent a whole afternoon curled up with each other in silence, heedless of the consequences. He pressed Renji's hand against his cheek afterwards and took the opportunity to cry a little whilst Renji was dozing.

As it turned out, two thirds of the men over 25 at the estate were expected by law to go along with Renji. Byakuya noticed them huddling together in corners, strategising. They'd all known each other for years and they were scared that they'd be purposefully split up when they arrived at the military encampment. It sounded like a plausible strategy - the government had to strip the clan out of them somehow.

One week out from the intended departure, they started to cut their hair. Topknots turned into short mops, and it looked ridiculous. Their thick hair seemed unwilling to lie flat after years of oiling and styling, but topknots wouldn't do. In the army they would be expected to wear some knock-off German navy uniform, carry a gun and pomade their hair up under neat caps. Nobody had pomade in Kanazawa, so they all stropped around with their hair falling into their eyes.

Byakuya knew immediately that Renji would ask him to do it. His jaw ached from grinding his teeth together waiting for it. Finally, Renji appeared in his doorway with a naked tanto in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other. His hair was in his topknot, looking typically messy.  
"I can't do it, Renji," he said, looking up from his desk.  
"You have to," Renji sighed. "Please."

They looked at each other. A drop of ink blotted Byakuya's letter as he waited. He would have to redo it, so he set it aside and nodded.

The tanto was pressed into his hand as he settled at the dresser, Renji in front of him. He caught their eyes together until Renji nodded again. There was an admirable determination to his face, which Byakuya struggled to refuse. He took the topknot in one hand, and sliced before he could change his mind. The razor-sharp blade cut the first few strands quickly, hanks of red dropping to tickle Renji's neck. He worked in sawing motions until the looped knot of hair came free in his hand. He left it tied up in its ribbon, hooked two fingers through it then laid it down in his lap reverently.

Renji's eyes were red rimmed in the mirror, but he laughed. "This is ridiculous, doesn't suit me at all," he snorted. Byakuya quite agreed, looking over the chunks of oiled hair that brushed Renji's jawline, all lopsided and sticking up around the crown of his head where the knot had been tied. "I think I saw....Rukia had a magazine with some pictures of western hairstyles. Shall I fetch her? We can try to do something with it." Byakuya asked.  
"Please, please Byakuya. The rest of them look like such idiots. I can't do it," Renji covered his eyes, rubbed his face roughly in despair.

He pressed a hand between Renji's shoulder blades for a moment before getting to his feet and going in search of his sister. Without even thinking, he'd taken the dismembered topknot with him, hooked over the index finger of his left hand. Rukia couldn't take her eyes of it when he found her, asked her to bring her magazine and handed her the scissors.

Her gentle, delicate touch was exactly what they needed. Byakuya sat slightly to the side, watching Renji's face rather than his reflection. She waited for permission before tentatively running her hands through the mess of Renji's hair. The magazine was spread out next to her on the tatami like the bible, open on a page with an advert for a western suit. The man in the illustration was Japanese, but he wore a moustache and glasses. After a few strokes, neatening the top but leaving it long, Rukia snipped bit at a time at the sides. She moved so carefully around his ears that Byakuya was shaken by the gentleness of it. Anyone watching could have believed they were siblings, the way Rukia touched Renji's shoulders now and then, checking in, pausing to tilt his head and survey her work.

The style suited Renji, in the end, even if Byakuya couldn't quite get his head around how it subtly changed his features. The hair over his forehead masked how angry his eyebrows were, made his cheekbones look sharper. Heedless of Rukia still kneeling up at the dresser, Byakuya reached forward and slipped his fingers through the short hair over Renji's ear, tucked away a longer stand falling over his eye.

Renji grinned, suddenly rakish with his new look. He would put the rest of them to shame, he thought, and Rukia would have a line of customers tomorrow.

*

An unspoken agreement found them in the passageway on that final night. They had learned how to communicate quietly, in this new world where they couldn't touch each other by day. All it had taken was a flick of his eyes and a single scrape of his finger across the inside of Renji's wrist whilst passing him tea. But he needn't have bothered, this was instinct. Renji couldn't leave him without doing this, one last time.

Byakuya kissed hard, clacking their teeth together painfully just because he wanted to feel it until he went to sleep. Renji dragged the collar of his kimono open and sucked a lovebite into his neck until he gasped, hips rocking forward of their own volition. He prayed for the bruise to last weeks and weeks.

They frantically pressed slivers of exposed skin together, digging fingers through layers of clothing. It was so dark there was barely anything to see, so Byakuya kept his eyes closed and panted, sharing Renji's air for as long as he could. His legs were shaking, straining on the balls of his feet to keep Renji pinned to the wall with his chest. Both his hands were in Renji's hakama, both of Renji's were in his, their knuckles hitting each other through two rough-spun layers of cloth.

Renji dug his teeth into Byakuya's neck to keep from shouting as he came, then rested his sticky forehead against his jaw until Byakuya trembled through his own orgasm.

He ran his hands through the spiky, short hair at the nape of Renji's neck. It was pointless, trying to accustom himself to the new sensation when Renji was leaving in the morning. They kissed and kissed and kissed until Renji was obviously flagging, sleepy hands loose at Byakuya's waist.

“We’ve been lovers in Edo and in Kanazawa, together. We’re still lovers when we’re apart, right?” Renji whispered, too honest in the darkness.  
Byakuya pushed his nose into Renji’s collarbone, nodded. “You may consider it your duty, to love me, to come back to me,” he whispered.

The next day, he said goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No....my poor babies. 
> 
> History and language notes
> 
> The pillow book of Sei Shonagon - a famous old Japanese text written by a court lady just detailing her thoughts and musings, originally for own amusement. It's the sort of arty thing I imagine Byakuya reading. 
> 
> Conscription - Japan had never had a standing army before, because Samurai families worked in clans to protect their specific area of the country. Consciption had been tried in like...the 780s! But this time they tried to make it like a European national army - specifically German or Prussian. Byakuya is exempt from conscription as the head of his family, and it was ruled that in such samurai clans/families, a third of the men could stay behind. You could pay like a ridiculous fee not to go, and there were specific rules about exemptions on medical grounds. Samurai were pretty peeved about being made to serve in the national army and it was the start of another civil war basically. They felt so strongly about it that many samurai actively mutilated themselves to get out of serving. Renji isn't like that, though. 
> 
> Topknots - The topknot was worn by lots of Japanese society but from my knowledge it started as a Samurai thing and then was adopted by merchants etc. They'd have it like dressed a few times a week, oiled and then brushed into a specific style. Some men shaved the top of their heads too, which was apparently more comfortable when you wore your helmet. But that looks absolutely daft, let's not imagine our two boys looking like that.....Along with their swords, this is sort of part of the iconic Samurai look, so it's a big deal cutting it off. I _think_ it became a thing, like Samurai were told they should cut off their topknots? But I might be just misremembering something dramatic from a film.


	13. Sealed letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Letters exchanged at a distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning - I'm back on my poetry game again. Criticisms are not being accepted at this time haha. 
> 
> **Please read the new tags** If you want to skip the reference to ritual suicide, it starts at August 1877 and finishes January 1878.

### Separated, 1873-1878

The first letter came at a painful distance to Renji's parting. Byakuya had anticipated this - it was a long journey across the width of Japan, and he would be greeted with a new set of people and rules to learn. There wasn't much time for writing, in such circumstances.

"Kuchiki-sama" it started, and Byakuya blanched before carrying on reading.

_Sendai is further away from spring than Kanazawa. I hope you and Rukia are well and enjoying some sunshine?_

_Don't laugh at my handwriting - I'm doing my best, and you best appreciate the effort. I also have to apologise to the people who check our mail, I'm wholeheartedly sorry for my penmanship._

_First off, I'd best reassure you that we're all ok. We've got a few people who didn't pass the medical, and are working their way back to you now. I passed of course, being the hardy, virile warrior type._

_We're not all together (not sure how much I can tell you) but I've got a few familiar faces with me. It's a real mix of characters in my barracks, but we're all in agreement that the uniform is itchy and the beds are a bit damp. So it doesn't really matter where we'll all from, we're brothers in this fact at least._

_Weirdest thing is not wearing my sword. I've been given a saber, a rifle and musket instead. Even a bayonet and little knife for my boot! But it's not quite the same as a katana. I have to leave my sword in the barracks because we're not allowed to carry them for any reason, and there's nowhere to practice kenjutsu anyway. The samurai crew all look a bit lost. I'm going to be so out of practice by the time I get back - please bear with me! I know you always won our spars anyway, but now you'll have me flat on my back in a heartbeat._

_It turns out I can shoot straighter with a gun than with a bow, so we have to be grateful for that at least._

_Tell Rukia to thank her again for being my hairdresser. I cut a fine figure in my uniform - you'd approve._

_I can't tell you much about where I am or what I'm doing but I can say again that I'm safe. It's tiring and there's a lot of mindless marching. Will you send me some verses, to keep my brain from leaking out my ears? An intellectual like myself can't cope without poetry._

_Abarai Renji_

He was hungry for more details, but the tone soothed his worries. Renji was so awful at greetings.

With the army screening the contents of their letters, they would have to obfuscate. In his reply he still assured Renji that he would have him flat on his back quite quickly on his return.

*

_**5th June, 1874**_

_Abarai-san,_

_Kanazawa is unbearably hot this summer. We are sat in our thinnest silks in the gardens every evening, hoping for even the smallest breeze._

_Please tell me that you are not in Taiwan? Please be well, Renji. I have not heard bad news, so must conclude for now that you are safe. Rukia is most anxious to hear from you, do not keep her waiting._

_I'm sure you've heard that we are all now forbidden from wearing our swords in public? I am the one exception - a small concession to my previous title. Many men in the household have given up entirely and cut their hair. Nobody in town gives us much trouble, even without all the outward trappings of the samurai._

_I bought a western suit. You'd laugh, I think, at how I look in it. It is constricting, especially the high collars - which I am trying to get used to. I have drawn the line at growing a mustache. That would suit you better than me, I think - but I can't help thinking it would be irritating? What do your peers report?_

_I'm glad you liked the Arakida poem I sent you last time. Here is another._

_When the east wind blows,  
Send me your perfume,  
Blossoms of the plum:  
Though your lord be absent,  
Forget not the spring_

_Make sure to take care in the heat._

_Kuchiki Byakuya_

Renji couldn't tell his beloved that he was not in Taiwan.

Instead he wrote back assuring Byakuya that he had not, and would not ever, grow a mustache. He'd had it confirmed that it was indeed incredibly itchy and that other officers even reported that their wives refused to kiss them with facial hair. Which sounded like an unacceptable risk.

*  
_**November 1875**_

_Kuchiki-sama,_

_We are mercifully free from snow where I am. Is there snow already in Kanazawa? I'm hoping that you're back from your trip to Toyama so you get this straight away. Ahh, memories. Was the castle still in one piece? Don't let it burn it down without me._

_I am muddy and cold for the most part. It's weird to be training other men how to use rifles and bayonets, when I wouldn't have known one end from the other a few years ago. After all, you'd never expect someone to know how to use a sword after just a few years of training! But that's how I'm spending my time this Autumn. There's a steady stream of young faces coming through and leaving again. Good group._

_Now, don't laugh. I really don't understand why this is happening, but I'm also sort of getting a reputation as the ex-samurai that people are willing to introduce to officials and visiting dignitaries. Maybe that's because I still look scary as hell, but I know how to hold a polite conversation. I heard one guy say I was a 'well trained dog' which, to be fair I'm not sure how to take. Someone should spit in that guy's tea or something. See? I'm entirely untrustworthy in this new role!_

_It does come with some perks. I met a rather interesting character recently, in fact. A certain southern samurai who knew Kanazawa quite well. He gave me such stink eye listening to me talk that I couldn't help but think he knew you. He has a son, hot-headed sort of kid with a chip on his shoulder. They stayed with the commanders for a week, and I ended up spending a lot of time sparring with the boy. I invited him for a visit when all this is over - I hope you don't mind._

_I've heard more and more rumours from down south since Saigo Takamori gave up his positions and moved back to Kagoshima. It's looking more and more like we'll end up fighting our own kind. You know I'm not quitter but it's a hopeless cause. There's no way that armour can stand up against a gattling gun and I don't want to see them try. We really should have taken photos, before I cut off my topknot and called it quits._

_I've probably said too much. I'll take care of myself. Promise me you will too._

_Abarai Renji_

The letter had been waiting two weeks for Byakuya at Kanazawa. He had lingered in Toyama far too long, wistfully wandering the gardens until the cold forced him to give it up.

When he wrote back, Byakuya did not confirm or deny Renji's suspicions on the Southern Samurai's identity. He was too busy being relieved that Renji was in Japan, somewhere within visiting distance of dignitaries and officials. Close.

*

_**March, 1876 ******_

********

********

_Abarai-san_

_We are in Tokyo, and enjoying an early start to ohanami. I wonder if we are closer to you here than we are in Kanazawa? Are there cherry trees in bloom where you are?_

_Rukia was keen to come and see Kyoraku's latest production. It was a comedy, with lots of mistaken identities and a truly spectacular performance by Onoe Kikugoro V. The last three productions have been tragedies, so this felt like a turning point. Rukia enjoyed it very much. Kyoraku hosted us admirably, and took us out for food. We will be in the city for another two weeks, then travel back to Kanazawa._

_We are all dismayed at your latest note and how much we will miss you. Being chosen to stay on longer with your commander shows how valued you are, however, so I can't bring myself to advise slacking off. Perhaps you can do some good, given the malcontent growing amongst the southern samurai._

_I hope that a higher status also means better food and lodging? I can send more tea if you require it? It is my pleasure to provide a few small luxuries for a man serving his country._

_In honour of Kyoraku, here are some words from Chikamatsu Monzaemon. I saw this play at the bunraku theatre as a young man and found it trite - but perhaps that is only because a story of double suicide is now so well-trodden?_

_They cling to one another, and,  
Not sparing of their sobs, they weep;  
And, like all lovers before them,  
Pray for just a while together.  
But such is the way of summer's nights,  
Short as always, short as love.  
Then the crow of the cock,  
Hounding their life span._

_Your duties at home are waiting patiently for your return. We can wait. We will wait for you to come back._

_Kuchiki Byakuya_

The letter he'd written to tell Byakuya he wasn't coming home yet had killed him a little inside. The guilt, making him wait longer. The exhaustion, at the prospect of slogging through another two years. His brain had been ready to go home, his whole being orbiting around the comforting thought of it being over at last. It had taken him weeks to send the letter.

Looking past the dramatics, Renji knew that the second pair of lines was the most important. He prayed, too, for just a while together.

*  
_**August 1877**_

_Kuchiki-sama,_

_We were caught in the action today, so you'll have to excuse me for skipping delicate greetings._

_Before you worry, I'm fine except for a few scratches. It's my heart that's heavy._

_You'll hear the broad strokes of what happened through the papers soon. It's over for now. Several groups committed seppuku, and we treated them as warriors. It was my privilege to oversee their last wishes._

_The civilians in my group didn't really know what to think at that. I feel like I've taken a few steps back in the eyes of a some of them, towards being some sort of heathen old-school warrior again. I tried to be calm for everyone and held my stomach. Some of the kids didn't._

_I'm sure you've been here? I'd never thought to ask before. It's different on a battlefield, I think. I wrapped the cloth around the tanto for a few of them when they couldn't quite manage it themselves- a small service compared to the grander rituals of the old days. Mostly I was just relieved not the have to be anyone's second._

_I miss Kanazawa, it's too hot to sleep even when you've got a clear head. I certainly won't be sleeping soundly tonight._

_When mountains are split  
And the seas run dry -  
Should such a world be born,  
I would not show a double heart  
In the service of my Lord._

_I might have remembered it wrong - you're my only source of poetry these days._

_Renji_

The papers spun the story to look like a glittering victory. The imperial army had obviously taken heavy casualties as Saigo and his rebel samurai withdrew from the disastrous battle at Kumamoto.

Byakuya thought of men in white, freshly bathed and warm from sake getting ready to die. He'd seen it once, half screened by his father sat in front him. An old man wrapping a short tanto in white cloth and sticking it deep into his abdomen. The man behind swiftly taking off his head. It had rolled out of sight as his father shook, feint at the sight of blood on sand.

He burned incense. The samurai had fought well, in this losing battle of their final war.

*  
_**February, 1878**_

_Abarai-san,_

_The snow is much heavier than it was in your last winter one here at Kanazawa. The warm kanzake is better, though and I hope we can enjoy it together soon, now that it appears everything is over?_

_This made for a bitter end to your time in service, perhaps. You must take comfort in the fact that you did the right thing by your enemies and fought well for your emperor._

_These last few months will feel so easy, now, in comparison to everything that came before. I know you enjoy training and mentoring. Now that you've been relieved from duty on the frontline in Kagoshima, I wish you safe travels back to the post you're more familiar with._

_When you are home, perhaps we will wait a while before we spar. I miss having someone to reminisce with, but I miss having someone to talk about future plans with even more. Our katana should rest awhile together, we can look ahead instead._

_Staying here at home  
Longing for you? No!  
Would that I could be  
The broad sword you wear  
And guard your body._

_Kuchiki Byakuya_

The shorter letters usually made him feel so empty, but this one made Renji's heart full. He got the feeling it had been honed and redrafted, each character written out several times on different bits of paper before the letter was written up and sent at last.

Cheeky of Byakuya, to choose a poem where he was the bodyguard instead. The danger was passed, now, and Renji didn't need a bodyguard anymore.

*

_Byakuya,_

_I'm due home the first week of July. Duty to my country is finished - another duty calls. I'm looking forward to a proper welcome._

_The breakers of the Japan Sea  
Roar like thunder on the shore.  
As fierce as they, as proud as they,  
Is he who pounds my heart._

_Renji_

For the first time in five years, Byakuya didn't feel a third pair of eyes sifting through Renji's words. The river of feelings ran clear and stark, bold as the black ink on the page.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somebody tell me how else to cover like five years of separation?!?!? 
> 
> History and language notes
> 
> Fuck me this is a long one...
> 
>  **Poetry:**  
>  \- When the east wind blows - Sugawara Michizane  
> \- When mountains are split - Minamoto Sanetomo  
> \- Staying here at home - A frontier poem by the father of Kusakabe Omininaka  
> \- They cling to one another - Chikamatsu Monzaemon, from the play _The Love Suicides at Sonezaki_. Chikamatsu was a very prolific playwright, like a Shakespeare equivalent. The quote is a bit on the nose but appropriate and I couldn't not include him within all my poetry references in this fic!  
> \- The breakers of the Ise sea - Kasa Gozen - Renji has changed the first line to reference the Sea of Japan near Kanazawa and Toyama where they live. This was a common practice when using poetry already written. Writing your own was more common but I'm no good at that!
> 
>  **Conscription** \- Most people only had to do three years conscription, but technically 7 years was required, with two of those being 'optional' years on call if you were needed. Renji being a good egg, he had to do 5 rather than the three years most people did at the start of conscription being introduced. 
> 
> **Satsuma Rebellion** \- This was a dispute between the southern lords that kicked off the Meiji restoration and the government they put in place. They basically didn't like the way things were being handled and modernisation killing the culture they'd grown up with. Saigo Takamori led the rebellion. He left government and set up his own private military force of samurai and expert swordsmen in Satsuma, southern Japan. The government had to send warships to go disband his army, but eventually it ended in battle between the government forces and Saigo's samurai. The rebel samurai were out-manned, outgunned and from what I know basically just won a few skirmishes based on guerrilla tactics. It ended with the Battle of Shiroyama, which is kind of what the film The Last Samurai tried to emulate. Saigo was wounded and killed himself. The Samurai charged, trying to make the most of their skill in close-quarters combat - but it was suicidal against rifles (not that that matters too much in this scenario to a group of samurai) and they pretty much died to a man.
> 
>  **Seppuku** \- Yikes this topic. I find it fascinating but feel free to skip... I'm going to try not to use the words 'commit seppuku' because it's definitely not considered a crime, especially in Japanese history. Ritual suicide, or hara kiri (cut the stomach) or seppuku was what samurai did to save face, or avoid an unacceptable death outside of battle or to atone for their actions if they broke their promises/code. In the Edo period it became very ritualised. Like, you'd be ceremonially washed, dressed in white, given special sake, and witnessed by your peers as you stabbed yourself in the stomach and one of your chosen retainers sliced your head off for you. Having a 'second' person there to decapitate you was a kindness - in the event that you had to commit seppuku alone, you'd need to make a second cut upwards in order to actually die, and then were expected to _sit still whilst you bled out_. The samurai that were retreating from the battle at Kumamoto with Saigo Takamori, when they were caught and overpowered, committed seppuku rather than be caught by the government. I had it so that Renji allowed and assisted them in this task, because it felt right given his background. Fun fact (it's not a fun fact) but at the battle of Aizu that I mentioned in an earlier chapter, over 22 women from one family group decided to undertake seppuku - yes, the same battle that those 19 teenagers killed themselves on a hill when they thought their castle was captured. If you want to find out more, look up Yukio Mishima (who tried to recreate the whole Meiji restoration thing in like, 1989 and ended up barricading himself in a government building and doing seppuku), or watch the 1941 film Chuushingura, if you have like...an an entire afternoon.
> 
> I'll be uploading probably twice a week until we're all finished. Next chapter early next week.


	14. Spinning free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being back together again was all muscle-memory, arms and hands and legs acting on instinct and leaving the mind to play catch up.

###  July, 1878 

The omnibus wound along the Kiso valley, all made of tangled forests and clean damp air. Renji had thought he'd had enough of being on the road, but this close to home the countryside was deep green and refreshing. The route was slightly out of his way, but it was quicker to trundle along with the carriage than to walk the slightly shorter route through the dense valleys further south. It meant warm beds, too, and good food at traditional inns. Nice, countryside manners that he'd missed.

He had a lot time to think as the horse-drawn bus bumped them along dirt roads. The windows gradually fogged with warm breath as the day went on, blotting out the landscape. The closer he got to home, the more his leg bounced. He had to squeeze his thighs together around the pack at his feet to stop from fidgeting and annoying his fellow passengers. Within two days on the omnibus he regretted not walking. Movement had always been more meditative to him than stillness.

The bus turned back at Takayama and he walked the last fifty aching miles over three sweltering days, grateful of his now well broken-in army boots. Each little landmark he recognised helped nudge nervousness into the heady realms of excitement. The anticipation when he reached Kanazawa town swelled into something joyful. He wanted to run the rest of the way, heavy pack cutting into his shoulders and unwieldy sword hitting his hip with each stride, but he held himself back.

His mind cleared in one simple, shaky exhale when he saw Byakuya.

They were at a distance, fated to meet on a long slow curve of the road between Kanazawa and the Kuchiki estate. Renji stopped to wait, pack propped against a tree. There were a few spots of colour up on the hill - the guards standing on the gate to the estate. Byakuya didn't seem to see him at first, briskly gliding along with his hands tucked into his sleeves to ward against the first chill of the evening. It couldn't be anyone else, with a sword still obstinately stuck into his belt. The clean lines of Byakuya's kimono were just as Renji remembered, but his hair was short and it made him look younger. Renji had forgotten just how slender he was, all long-limbed and willowy.

Byakuya valiantly packed away a true smile when they met, and Renji grinned for him.  
"Did you come to meet me?" he asked, breathless. Byakuya nodded.  
"How did you know I would arrive today?"  
"I worked it out. It would have to be yesterday, today, or tomorrow, given the date of your last letter."Renji tried to imagine Byakuya hovering on the road amongst the fireflies the previous evening, eventually giving up and going home. "Sorry I kept you waiting."  
"Apologise to the cooks, you wasted their efforts just as much as mine," Byakuya quipped, turning back towards home.

However you looked at it, they were an incongruous pair. In Tokyo, Byakuya would have drawn every pair of eyes with the combination of his sword, haori and western haircut. Here in Kanazawa, the guards were wide-eyed at Renji's appearance, his sword in a travel bag across his back rather than on his hip. He still wore his uniform, and filled it out nicely from marching and army drills. With a good two weeks of travel stubble and mud-splattered boots, he felt like a caveman. Probably smelled like one too. Sweeping Byakuya into his arms would have to wait until he'd washed.

Byakuya had read his mind. He was briskly informed that there was hot water, ready and waiting in the nice big washroom in the family quarters. And soba. Cool soba on a summer's evening after days of travel! "You're so good to me," he groaned. Byakuya looked a little pink, and slipped away to see to the food.

*

Renji was up to his collarbones in hot water, eyes closed, but he wasn't asleep. His skin looked remarkably tanned and a lot cleaner than when they'd met on the road, even though the whiskers made his neck look grubby.

Byakuya had intended to let Renji bathe in peace. He had knelt at the table in his room, so grateful not to have spent another evening haunting the roads around Kanazawa. He had checked his appearance, looked over the food, dismissed the fretting servants, rearranged the cushions and realised he was haunting his rooms when he could be with Renji instead. Renji was right across the corridor, home at last.

So he slipped into the washroom, bare feet on slick wet stone floors, and set down a low stool next to the wooden tub. He skimmed his eyes across the level surface of the water, avoiding the temptation to look down. Renji didn't stir, so he just hooked an elbow on the edge of the bath and shut his eyes.

A hot, wet hand closed around his wrist after a few minutes, and he opened his eyes to the welcome sight of Renji's smile. "You promised me not to grow a moustache," he said.  
"It grows whether I want it to or not," Renji snorted.

He dipped a hand into the water, swirling ripples across the surface, blurring it so that nothing was visible apart from the smudgy impression of tanned skin. It was almost blisteringly hot. Necessary, given the sweat of the road, and Renji didn't look uncomfortable, just bone tired. "Let me help?" he said. Renji's nod was immediate, even if his mouth thinned in apprehension. Byakuya had no intentions of making things awkward if he could help it, though.

Renji's eyes were heavy on him as he moved through the room to gather a leather pouch and bowl of cold water. The stool squeaked across the floor until he was sat behind Renji, knees spread wide around the curve of the tub. His fingers dug into the wet red mass of his hair - it was skin-warm and clean from the quick wash down before Renji had climbed into the bath. It felt good to ruck the strands up backwards and then smooth them down again, just a few times to soothe his own nerves. He risked a kiss to one bare shoulder, before reaching for the shaving kit.

Renji's whiskers scraped his fingertips even with the added glide of shaving cream. He spread it liberally across the hinge of Renji's jaw and dip of his throat, the hollow under his bottom lip and the bump of his adam's apple. In the edge of his vision, he saw Renji's hands curled tight around the edge of the tub. "Relax," he whispered. "I have held a blade to your throat before, have I not? Don't you trust me?" The long brown fingers twitched, sunk under the water and out of sight.

He dipped the razor in the water and floated it across Renji's cheek, carefully. Renji had to stay still and silent whilst he did it, saving them any conversation whilst they were both tired and wrung out from waiting. He methodically sliced away strips of shaving cream, leaving smooth skin behind. Halfway through he shifted around the bath a little then finally he got up to finish the most awkward spots, leaning over Renji with a hip balanced on the sharp edge of wood.

There was glint in Renji's eye, watching him perched there, and he jabbed the razor in the air with a pointed "behave". Renji half held his hands up in surrender, and then promptly pressed a wet hand print against Byakuya's chest, dark against the pale blue of his kimono. There was a distinct lack of contrition in Renji's face, he mused, looking down at the mark. Renji snorted and giggled to himself, still with a stripe of shaving cream up the front of his neck and over his chin. The mischievous tilt around his eyes hadn't completely faded. "If you pull me in, you'll delay dinner," he felt the need to remind Renji.  
"Maybe next time, then?" Renji smirked with a tilt of his head.

Prickling started up behind Byakuya's eyes at that familiar flash of teeth. He was leaning forward, razor twisted away in his right hand and left hand under Renji's chin. Their lips pressed firm together, until the vague taste of shaving cream and sloshing of water against his hakama startled him. He would have toppled in, but Renji pressed another hand-print into his thigh to save him. "Aren't you meant to be the well behaved one?" Renji laughed, helping Byakuya wipe the shaving cream from his lips.

One thickly muscled arm kept him steady. Byakuya held onto it, looked away. "I have missed you," he explained. Renji reached up, turned his face back and looked right into the depths of him for a moment. "Me too," he said.

Byakuya managed to pull the pieces of himself back together and finish the job he started. They reassembled themselves so they could be responsible and eat.

Nobody disturbed their dinner, even though there were plenty of shuffling footsteps outside the paper doors of the suite. The entire meal, three small courses, were all set out so that nothing had to be collected or dropped off midway and break the comfortable atmosphere. Renji ate so quickly, like he had a time limit. Byakuya reminded himself that he probably had eaten within a time limit for the past five years. He slowly served Renji a few more small helpings.

"I can't believe you cut your hair," Renji whispered later, when they had curled up on a thick layer of cushions, ankles tangled. "It was becoming ridiculous, calling the hairstylist up here for just me," he replied. There were other reasons too - he had wanted to match Renji, he didn't want to be left behind. It made him more acceptable to the outside world so that other compromises (like carrying his sword) were acceptable in turn. People in Tokyo took his ideas more seriously, when he arrived wearing a suit and his hair cut short.

"It'll take some getting used to," Renji said, playing with the piece that stubbornly fell over Byakuya's eye when it wasn't scraped back with some sort of oil. "I barely had any time to get used to yours, either," Byakuya replied.  
"Well, you have plenty of time now." Renji pulled him close, set his head on the broad expanse of his chest and settled down to sleep.

They had been apart for longer than Byakuya had been married. They had been a pair for longer than Byakuya had known his mother. Being back together again was all muscle-memory, arms and hands and legs acting on instinct and leaving the mind reeling, playing catch up. He willed his mind to accept it, lying there with Renji's heart beating against his cheek.

He had not been idle whilst Renji was away. They were so close now, so close to everything being alright again. And until it was, Renji was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay reunited :) Slightly shorter chapter, I know. 
> 
> History and Language Notes
> 
> Travel - In Edo period Japan under the shogun you had to have passes to move around between areas of the country. Travel networks were pretty shit in Japan before trains were a thing, from what I know. So Renji uses a horse-drawn omnibus carriage to get as close as he can to home.


	15. Still yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had taken months of Renji's whining before Byakuya had relented and agreed to have their photograph taken. It would be the three of them in traditional dress, sat in the wide audience chamber that Renji still gaped at every time the doors were left open. Just like old times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt really guilty about how short the previous chapter was, so I've tweaked, added a few things and this will now be the last chapter. But it's much longer!
> 
> HUGE HUGE thanks to those people who've been reading right from the beginning. This has been so much fun, thanks for coming on the journey with me.

###  July 1880

"So when am I going to see this suit of yours?" Renji asked, teasing smile inching across his face. He jostled Byakuya's arm further into the sleeve of his armour, pulling roughly until he could finally get the wrist ties to close properly. The sleeve was uncomfortable and a little twisted. Byakuya couldn't help but feel Renji wasn't fully paying attention to the task at hand. Even a year on from his grand homecoming, Renji was still playful and puppy-like with this newfound freedom.

Byakuya tried not to label it as 'unruly' or 'undisciplined'. It was more that Renji was re-balancing from an overabundance of discipline and had tipped firmly too far in the other direction. It would take time, he knew.

They were both only half dressed despite having gotten up early to get ready. Renji was stood barefoot in only his kimono, the pieces of Byakuya's armour were scattered on the floor around him. The photographer was due in an hour, but Renji didn't seem motivated to work faster, even under the shadow of Byakuya's most severe expressions. "You afraid I'll laugh?" the redhead chattered on. He skimmed up Byakuya's side in a way that was a little ticklish, under the pretense of adjusting the knots over his ribs. "I only wear a suit when it's absolutely necessary," he answered at last.  
"Like on your trips to Tokyo? You seemed to visit a lot whilst I was away," Renji said.

Which was true enough. Throughout the long period of their correspondence Byakuya had told Renji that it was Rukia wanting to go to Tokyo, and it was true that Rukia was always eager to accompany him. She usually came back with all the latest fashions, happy to have seen Kyoraku and all the strange new modern sights around the capital. But mostly Rukia had occupied herself in their rented apartment whilst Byakuya worked. He had to visit Tokyo every few months to work with the government. On one law, specifically.

He'd wormed his way in with the politicians as soon as he had found out what the piece of legislation was about. To begin with it only offered him a sliver of hope and a suitable distraction from worrying about whether Renji was safe, alive, nearby. After years of subtle work and manipulation, Byakuya had moulded it into something that would overturn the Keikan code; that single damned law keeping him at arm's length from the man he loved. His new hair, new suit, long trips, sleepless nights and feigned friendliness with odious bureaucrats would finally pay off.

Someone knocked at the door and Renji looked up from rifling through the precious pieces of armour littered around the room. It was only Makoto, letting them know Rukia was dressed and ready, should they want to take tea before the photographer arrived. Makoto's smile turned wry when he saw the state of them, and he gave Byakuya a sympathetic look whilst Renji's back was turned, then disappeared again.  
"If you do not get on with it I will finish dressing myself, Renji," he hissed.  
"Keep your hair on," Renji snorted, then grudgingly picked up his pace.

As much as Byakuya would have liked to savour dressing Renji in his armour for the first time, it was not a pleasant experience. Renji had bulked up whilst he was away, and it was a struggle to get him into the shoulders and sleeves of his old set. "Never thought I'd grow out of this..." the bodyguard was mumbling to himself, testing the range of movement in his shoulders and wincing. "It's good that we're just taking a few photographs, you couldn't wear this to fight anymore," Byakuya sighed, looking at the large gaps under the arms where he'd been forced to ease off the ties that criss-crossed between the plates.

The armour was shockingly open all the way down the back, but that was intentional. He ran his fingers down the lacing and Renji turned to catch his eye. "Can I trust you back there?" he said, eyebrow raised. Heat raced through Byakuya's stomach with just that glance.  
"I have seen you in more vulnerable positions. I would not choose this moment to make my move." Renji's eyes darkened in turn.  
"Kami. I am very up for you making a move. Take advantage, _Bucho_ ," he teased, as if Byakuya was a mafia boss. Their armour clacked together as Renji crowded in. Byakuya would willingly admit he had been goading and teasing Renji more as time had gone on, knowing that the end to their predicament was potentially coming. Renji was all too willing to reciprocate, and it was going to get them in trouble. The secret corridor had been thoroughly initiated back into their relationship, like an awkward third wheel.  
"Behave," Byakuya scolded and swallowed his own need. He would quite happily tug on that thread and unravel all the progress they'd made in getting dressed. Another time, and very soon. "Bring the rest, we'll take tea with Rukia."

It had taken months of Renji's whining before Byakuya had relented and agreed to have their photograph taken. It would be the three of them in traditional dress, sat in the wide audience chamber that Renji still gaped at every time the doors were left open.

Rukia was sat on a silk cushion below the dais, wrapped in a long blue, white and black long-sleeved furisode, delicate floral patterns weaving through the stiff brocade of her obi. The hairdresser had done an elaborate job with her hair, sleek and shining black with dangling silver ornaments that jingled faintly when she turned her head to greet them. Renji whistled when he saw her and Byakuya had to agree with the sentiment. Amongst the backdrop it really did take Byakuya back to tea ceremonies where Hisana had presided as lady of the house, pouring tea so gracefully. Today's deep green tea set was from Hisana's exquisite collection, of course. Rukia had a knack for picking out the most seasonally appropriate designs, just like her older sister.

They lined up their gloves, helmets, hair ties and sandals in the corner of the room to await their curtain call. Two stools and a cushion were set up in a haphazard triangle around the tea set. One stool standing proud on the dais, two spots for Rukia and Renji in the hollow were men used to wait for an audience. He was grateful for the stool on Renji's behalf. Sitting on the floor in armour wasn't too comfortable in the best of circumstances, and Byakuya guessed that Renji was barely able to breathe from the way he was moving.

"Rukia, your brother is jealous," the redhead grunted, collapsing onto the stool. "I'm outgrowing my armour with muscle, and he's only outgrowing his because you've fed him too well."

They both snorted at the lie.

*

The photographer was a jittery, wiry young man with glasses, arms wrapped around a precarious pile of wooden tripod and fabric. Renji tried not to look threatening as Makoto showed him in. The tea had gone cold, and two girls scurried off to make some more for their guest. Renji suspected that the photographer wouldn't get to drink it out of the nice tea cups - they were the delicate sort that Renji made an effort to pick up gently, afraid of cracking them just with his bare hands.

"I'm Kuchiki Rukia, please come in. Do you need anything? We hope this room is suitable," Rukia was saying, rising gracefully and toeing the train of her kimono aside as she turned and approached the photographer. The silk of her skirts rippled and whispered across the floor behind her.

They could pretend, with the way the scene was set, that nothing had changed. Like the past decade had never happened. Renji knelt on the step up tot he platform and tied Byakuya's tachi and wakizashi around his waist. The photographer sounded nervous as hell, babbling pleasantries in return about how it was a pleasure, what an honour, what a stunning room. "It's so nice to have a reason to dress up, thank you in advance for your expertise," Rukia said. It was impressive, the way she reassured the photographer that this wasn't how they usually dressed, _we aren't crazy warrior people_. Her brother had taught her the art of weaving deeper meanings into seemingly bland statements.

Renji grinned up at his...well, his lord, for today, and Byakuya was looking down from under the shadows of his faceguard in that effortlessly regal way Renji remembered from a long time before. He'd noticed Rukia's efforts too. "Kuchiki-sama," he whispered with a bow, stepping back. Byakuya sat, set his katana point down between his feet, held the hilt in both hands, and nodded. There wasn't going to be much talking, then.

The silence hung for a moment, then the photographer seemed to gather himself together. "I usually...when I have taken plates for samurai, I suggest trying poses with and without the facemasks. Sometimes the lighting makes it hard to see who it is with the masks on," he explained. Rukia was too busy arranging the fall of her sleeves to reply, so Renji just nodded to show they understood, squared his shoulders and settled in for a long and uncomfortable period of stillness.

But once everything was set up, the photographer worked so quickly Renji wondered what all the fuss was about. Apparently, taking the picture was instantaneous, so they had to sit very still and make a neutral expression. Renji just tried to look at the camera and not scowl too much. His eyebrows were scarily angry without any added effort on his part. From where he was sat he couldn't see Byakuya, but Rukia looked both graceful and sharp enough to cut, despite the way she knelt, meekly with her fingertips only just peeking out from her sleeves.

They tried a last set of photos with their helmets removed. It felt a little wrong, with their short, bouncy western hairstyles, so Renji tied a long white bandana around his forehead in an effort to recapture the right feeling. He had to grip his sword tight to distract himself from the tight knots digging into the small of his back. After all this time, he was disappointed to find himself thinking that his western army uniform was more comfortable. Old habits didn't die hard, apparently.

As the photographer was leaving, Makoto slipped back in the room, made a show of straightening cushions and clearing away little oddments. Then, running out of things to do, he hung around awkwardly, shooting Byakuya looks until the lord seemed to relent and beckon him with a single wave. He approached but didn't step up onto the platform, handed over a neatly folded letter. Renji's eyes narrowed. Makoto was usually a steady sort of man, unembarrassed and unyielding. He did not fidget, fuss, or blush and avoid looking Renji in the eye. Hell, before now they'd held a civil conversation whilst Renji was semi-naked, covered in love bites and asking for snacks at 4 o'clock in the afternoon. Something was wrong.

Renji opened his mouth to ask about the letter and found that Byakuya's face was purposefully blank, arranged to hide even the slightest indication of his mood. The letter was unexpected, then, and secret.

Byakuya stood."I appreciate your time," he said, with a perfunctory nod at the photographer, and left.

Makoto stuck around to show their guest out, even carrying the heavy wooden camera box. Renji sucked on his teeth, watching the steward until it was just him and Rukia left in the room.  
"What was that all about?" he sighed and Rukia blanched. Now _her_ face was twisting with something guilty, her mouth in a thin line whilst she obviously fished around for something to say. _So Rukia knows too._. Boy did Renji hate being the last person to find out important information. Rukia practically jumped when the door opened again. Makoto was back with yet more tea - at least the third pot in an hour. Renji knew how these highfaluting lords were, tea was a good distraction from long and awkward conversations, so the more often you were offered tea, the worse things were. Rukia was still looking at her lap, working things out. Renji resisted the urge to ask questions, which meant that he was rapidly losing the patience to sit in his too-tight armour instead.

"I think it'll be from the government," Rukia said, deciding at last.  
"The letter? Why's he getting letters from the government? What are they pestering him about now?"  
"It's just about the law he's working on, Renji," she went on.  
"What...what law?"  
Rukia hesitated. Makoto had stilled in his pouring for a split second, then recovered, handing Renji his tea in a sturdy looking cup that looked hard to squash. So, this was bad news, Renji thought. "Kuchiki-sama has been working hard these five years, with the government," Makoto explained, dipping his head in apology at Rukia for chipping into the conversation. "He's been trying to overturn the law that has made you both so unhappy, Abarai-san."

Renji's stomach jolted and he flinched, tea spilling over the back of his fingers as he involuntarily squeezed the cup. It didn't shatter.

Byakuya had been working with the government, on _their_ behalf? To overturn what? The Keikan Code? What else could they mean.

"We were going to Tokyo at least every other month whilst you were away. I thought he told you why..." Rukia said, voice a little high with panic. She set down her tea and twisted her hands in her lap. "He kept it from you?"  
"He didn't say anything..." Renji whispered. Makoto was looking suspiciously like _he_ knew that Renji didn't know. "Perhaps Kuchiki-sama didn't want to give false hope, at first. But I was sure he had made progress. I was under the impression that he was waiting for good news," Makoto said, frowning.

The snap of the screen door made them all look up. Byakuya was standing there, open letter in a gauntleted hand, face carefully schooled into disinterest.

"We'll let you...." Rukia muttered, clattering around with cups and standing to leave with a precariously balanced tray full of hot tea. She'd snatched the full cup right out of Renji's hand. He blinked and Makoto was already nowhere to be found. It was just the two of them in the wide, sweet-smelling audience chamber. The taste of tea still washing out Renji's mouth.

Byakuya pulled himself up straight and walked towards him. He started to hold out the letter for Renji well before he was anywhere near where they'd been sitting. Bad news or good news, it was impossible to read anything, apart from a slight nervous tremble in the lord's hands, disguised under layers of armour. Renji glanced up as he took the letter and Byakuya turned away, hand over his mouth, hiding any hint of expression before Renji could make sense of it.

He didn't understand everything he read in the letter, all the legal particulars, references to people he'd never met and other legal documents that were apparently relevant. However. Renji's throat was burning. _However._ There was one, glorious line, right near the end that Renji did understand.

_I must congratulate you, Kuchiki-sama, for your unrelenting attentiveness in this matter. We are thrilled that all your hard work has paid off and this piece of legislation can now be put into place effective immediately._

Effective immediately.

Renji's eyes snapped up, vision hazy. "Byakuya," he croaked. "Is this? Is this what I think it is? Was Rukia telling the truth?"

"Yes, Renji. She was."

Renji felt cracked and bruised, but he wanted nothing more than to be unprotected, naked, out of his armour. His lord, the man he loved, had spent five years _playing nice_ with the people who'd done everything bad to them. He'd cut his hair and changed his clothes to better play the game. So that they could be together.

That meant they _needed_ to be together. Right now.

He was on his feet, reaching, throwing the letter aside. He got his hand around the back of Byakuya's neck and reeled him in.

"You're so fucking incredible," he muttered into Byakuya's mouth, kissed him hard. He got his hands in his lord's hair, tilted their faces together over the sound of clicking, unyielding glazed metal. The ties under his arms were pulled tight and cutting into the muscles across his ribs where he was stretching. "Get me out of this, Byakuya, get me out of it," he begged, pulling his lover in by the shoulders in a silent request for help, but Byakuya was busy struggling out of his gloves. They were thrown aside one by one, rolling and clattering across the tatami. Together they fumbled at whatever ties they could find on Renji's chest, more hands certainly not making light work. They were too distracted by frantic breathy kisses. It didn't matter if they undressed in order, right now.

He briefly sent up a prayer not to be disturbed for an hour at least. He could ask for that surely, they deserved that. Then Byakuya wrapped his mouth around Renji's tongue and sucked. He amended his estimate. This wouldn't last twenty minutes at this rate.

Renji shrugged out of the heaviest plates around his waist and shoulders, helped his lord do the same. "This is gonna be a nightmare," he groaned, pulling away knots upon knots, fragments of armour crumbling away like stone from a rock face, tumbling off the dais and down into the room. "Patience," Byakuya whispered, his hands tugging gently on the hair at the base of Renji's skull, holding him out of kissing range.  
"Don't give me the fucking patience talk right now," Renji growled. "Eight _years_ Byakuya." He pushed forward until Byakuya was forced to let go of his hair, moving mouth first in hot desperation.

Hands closed around his wrists, squeezed, and Renji pulled back, ready to argue.

Byakuya was smiling at him, hair mussed and collar askew. All that was left of his armour were the long, tight sleeves Renji had twisted him into that morning and the hard plates across his shins. "Eight years," the lord repeated. "We will have the rest of our lives to enjoy this freedom, I promise." He presented Renji with the ties at his wrist, waited. Renji sighed, pulled the bow loose and dragged the lacing free. He pressed kisses to Byakuya's palms, then up his wrist, tongue darting out to meet the pulse, and then laid more kisses over the wet mark. He knelt, unwrapped Byakuya's calves and tossed aside the last of the protective shell.

"Now you," Byakuya said, working his thumbs up Renji's sleeves one by one to shimmy them off, rewarding Renji with a long, slow kiss when he swapped sides.

"Are we....in here?" Renji panted, fuzzy from the hot slide of a tongue down his neck, dipping into the hollow where his kimono crossed over. "Yes. I am not _that_ patient, Renji," Byakuya muttered, biting. Renji's teeth ached with desire. To be in this room, dressed like this, with Byakuya speaking to him in that measured, slow tone, made Renji wish they'd done this sooner. It would have been so good, Lord Kuchiki up on his throne and Renji on his knees, doing his duty.

Wait, it was happening, right now. _It is going to be so good_.

"You should take me," Renji breathed.

" _Yes_."

That seemed to do something to Byakuya, who started tugging at clothes, pulling Renji closer by the back of his thighs, grinding them together and tongue sliding into Renji's mouth demandingly. Renji's hakama were undone in deliberate, rough tugs that pulled his hips sharply forward. Then left to fall around his ankles whilst Byakuya tore at the knot in Renji's obi, gave up and tugged the collar of his kimono loose instead. It gaped around his neck, widening around the deft hands sliding down across his pectorals.

"Lie down," Byakuya said, so quietly.

A hard pulse of need throbbed in the hollow of Renji's hips and he rushed to make a space, pulling cushions towards himself. When he looked back up, Byakuya was shouldering out of his kimono, eyes dark and wanting. He paused undressing to pluck a vial of oil out of a sleeve before dropping the robe to the floor with everything else. Renji tore his eyes away from the narrow, cut waist on display, the lithe thighs that he loved to bite. He'd not bitten the insides of those thighs in almost a decade. His mouth watered, then his mind skittered back on track.  
"You went to get the oil...? That's why you left earlier?" Renji gaped.  
"I had faith.." Byakuya's low voice rumbled "..that the letter would bring good news."  
"How long have you been wanting to fuck me in here?" Renji said, laughter bubbling up despite himself.

Byakuya was on his knees, spreading Renji's legs and settling there. "I think part of me wanted you, like this, the first time I saw you in here," Byakuya replied, reaching forward. Renji's hips twitched upwards as Byakuya wrapped a fist around his length. If anyone came in right now there'd be no disguising it - they were all wrapped up in each other with not a stitch on. His heart thumped at how exposed it was and he leaned into the sensation, stretching, relaxing back into the tatami and letting his legs fall open with a groan. "You were so proud, so dedicated. How far would you have let me push?" the lord continued, leaning down to run his tongue through the precum smeared across Renji's stomach.

" _Fuck_ Byakuya," he moaned. "Anything, I'll do anything for you."

He'd forgotten the feeling of being prepared, it had been so long since he'd felt that familiar stretch. Byakuya's fingers were long, slender, and god damn persuasive. The man had a calligrapher's fine control, and he knew what to do to Renji's body - to make it shudder, make his mouth drop open and his back arch. The years of waiting hadn't dulled the years they'd spent honing their pleasure to a sharp point. Byakuya wielded it with precision.

Oil was smeared across the inside of his thighs, warm and slick where Byakuya's hand was digging into his muscle and holding him in place. Renji drifted dizzyingly up into the coloured swirls of the painted ceiling, twitching and rolling back onto the fingers pressing circles inside him. A low moan brought him back in as his pleasure spiraled, getting close. The sound had been him, he realised. "Come on, I'm ready," he said, curling his legs up towards his chest, offering himself up.

Byakuya was lightly gripping his own length in an oiled hand, teasingly jerking himself off at the sight of Renji spread out under him. "I've missed this. Missed this so much," Renji sighed, his throat tight. The gulf of years apart had been bookended with tiny sips of affection, just enough not to wither away. All they'd had was desperate, rushed half-couplings where they'd barely dared to touch. It had always been tinged with fear, ears pricked for the slightest hint of danger. Here and now he wanted to press all of himself right up against Byakuya, make noise and not care.

The steady stretch of Byakuya pushing inside made his breath hitch. When their hips pressed together, they paused, Byakuya held himself still, eyes closed and teeth wrapped around his bottom lip. "C'mere, c'mere please," he wrapped his thighs around Byakuya's waist, drawing him down.

He pressed their foreheads together and held Byakuya's jaw in his cupped palms, kissed him lightly and waited for his eyes to open. When they did, they were blown wide open and desperate. "You feel incredible," Renji whispered, feeling Byakuya's hips twitch forward. "That's it, come on, take what you need." Renji had always talked him through this, when they were this way around.

Byakuya gave a breathy whine and rolled his hips again, with more purpose this time. He set up a rhythm of short and deep thrusts that vibrated through Renji. "Hell yes," he said, encouragingly, wrapping his hands around Byakuya's upper arms. "Shit we should do this in every room, fuck me in every room, Daimyo...Bucho......Kumicho...Taisa.... _Taicho_ ," he rambled, punctuating each slap of flesh with a new title. It earned him a low growl, lingering, wet kisses, mouths pressed together and open. The pace picked up, bouncing him slightly on the cushions. "Byakuya... _anata_ ," he pushed, rolling his hips back. Byakuya moaned at the term of endearment.  
"Never leave again," the lord whispered, then pressed his face into Renji's chest, grinding down and pressing Renji's thighs open in a deep stretch so that he couldn't move. He could only sink into the pleasure unspooling between them.

"I...Renji..."  
"Touch me," he mumbled, mouthing at Byakuya's neck.  
A hand slithered between them, making a soft, tight channel for him to fuck up into. His eyes slipped shut as he rocked himself backwards and forwards between two points of pleasure. So close. "Harder," he choked out and it was so good. He wanted to feel it later and know that Byakuya had been inside him, made his own space, marked him. His release rolled through him, hot streaks smearing between their bellies as he pressed his heels down and his hips up.

Byakuya's breath was hot and sharp against his neck, quicker and quicker until he stiffened with a shout, bitten-off and then breathless, shuddering.

Renji wrapped one arm around his lord immediately, held him close then hooked an abandoned kimono with his free hand and wrapped them up in it. Byakuya was still buried inside him, lying in the mess on Renji's stomach but seemingly unconcerned. He caught his breath, drawing long lines with his palms up and down Byakuya's back.

"God that seemed intense, you ok?" he whispered, voice a little horse and sleep.  
"Yes. _Renji_...you called me..." Byakuya was uncharacteristically lost for words. Renji didn't quite know why 'anata', as personal as it was, had come slipping out amongst a litany of military titles. But it had. "Yeah..sorry. It felt right," he said, a little sheepish.  
"It's good," Byakuya whispered, relaxing the last of his weight onto Renji.  
"We're practically married, right? I mean, you overturned laws for me, that's commitment if anything is," he laughed.  
"I did. But...it won't be easy, Renji," Byakuya said, sounding a bit more lucid. Renji pressed a hand over the back of Byakuya's neck and felt the pulse slowing, coming back down. He waited patiently for his lover to collect his thoughts and words together. "I tried not to make my motivations obvious, because their attitude has not changed. They'll still hate us. They just won't have a law to punish us with."

Byakuya raised his head to look at Renji, chin propped on his chest. He was trying to make his point stick, drive home the seriousness of it with the characteristic silver-edged blade of his gaze. Renji didn't need to think about it. Or want to.

Here in Kanazawa, they were so far away from all that. He figured they could probably get away with staying hidden here. Renji would be happy with that. Content. Ecstatic, even.

"I hate Tokyo anyway. Let's just stay here forever."

Byakuya huffed a laugh and rearranged the kimono a bit tighter around him. "Alright," he said.

*

Later, Renji lazes on the veranda. His hair is still damp from bathing.

The armour had been wrapped and packed away. Byakuya had brought out a new twin sword rack and set it up in the nook in his bedroom. He had bowed and taken Renji's sword from him, slotting it into place below his own. To stay.

For once, the sake had been shared, so Renji feels pleasantly warm, blurred around the edges, even if the evening is a bit too warm and cloying for his tastes.

Byakuya's voice is rich and teasing as he sings.

_Like a passion-plant pattern  
Is my heart tangled.  
Who was it that brought this tangle?  
For it was not my doing._

終わり

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap folks, I hope you enjoyed. I might want to do some sort of companion piece or extras at some point, because I love this setting. 
> 
> If you're curious about what the guys look like in Samurai gear, I've actually done a few sketches of them because OF COURSE I DID. 
> 
> [Kenjutsu practice](https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/83866884)
> 
> [Cuddling in the snow from chapter 8](https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/83866176)
> 
> [Renji being possessive a little bit...kinda NSFW](https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/83866216)
> 
> **History and Language Notes**
> 
> Poem - Ariawara Narihira - Ise monogatari. Inspiration for the title of this fic :)
> 
> Bucho, Kumicho, Taisa - Renji is randomly spewing a load of terms for superiors - boss, captain, commander etc. Couldn't resist a 'Taicho'.
> 
> Anata - Only married couples call each other 'anata' rather than by a name. It's a proper 'sweetheart' 'darling' 'beloved' moment. 
> 
> Homosexuality in Japan - The Keikan Code was replaced by a different law in 1880. It wasn't specifically designed to overthrow the laws against sodomy, and was much more wide-reaching, which meant in my head that Byakuya could totes get in there and do some good without it being too noticeable. So what happens next? I can't pretend it would be an easy ride for our boys. Whilst it's not illegal any more after 1880, there's still the sort of attitude you'd expect amongst European countries at the time now developing in Japan. It's seen as perverse, and wrong to be in a homosexual relationship. Even now in Japan it's only just starting to improve. 
> 
> But Byakuya probably does exactly what he intended to do - lives as a recluse in his big old fashioned mansion in the countryside with Renji. Maybe that hot headed kid comes to visit and takes a shine to Rukia. Maybe he's ginger-haired and his sword is overcompensating a little. Maybe. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.


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